


Bodyswitch

by Winterblume



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterblume/pseuds/Winterblume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione's in hell and all her nightmares have come true. She's turned into a brainless bimbo and is failing all her classes quite spectacularly. Her teachers have, in fact, already given up on her and just sit back and watch her flunk all her NEWTs. Yes, it's nothing but hell for Hermione. On the upside, things can hardly get any worse. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Battle of Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
> 
> New story ^^ I had this plot in my head for a while and always wrote something, forgot about it and came back later to add things. In any way, this story is already almost complete . It's gonna be around 50,000 words. I have already written 40,000, I guess. So updates should be regular ...unless I have a freak out and think it's shit. Reviews are, of course, very much appreciated :)
> 
> TO THE STORY: This chapter starts at the end of book seven. Voldemort attacks Hogwarts while Harry, Ron and Hermione frantically try to find Ravenclaw's Diadem and a way to destroy the Horcrux in Hufflepuff's Cup. As far as I remember, in the books, Harry went off alone to find the diadem. In the meantime, Hermione and Ron somehow (off screen) made it to the Chamber of Secrets to destroy the cup.
> 
> AU STARTS: In my story, while Harry tries to find the diadem, Ron and Hermione split up. Ron runs down to the chamber and Hermione tries to find the last Horcrux, Nagini. And that's where chapter 1 starts:

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

Frantically, Hermione ran down the corridor. She couldn't believe this was really happening. This was even worse than Harry's, Ron's and her flight from Gringotts on the back of a dragon. Hermione's breath came fast and with her wand gripped tightly in her hand she dashed through Hogwarts. She  _needed_  to find Nagini. The stupid snake could be anywhere. Hermione darted around a corner, almost tripping over the debris on the floor. Hogwarts had really taken a blow this time. With tears in her eyes, Hermione hoped Ron was alright. Her ever busy brain supplied her with the image of her very dead friend, lying in the Chamber of Secrets, with the Cup of Hufflepuff undisturbed in his cold hands.  _Damn you, Voldemort_ , Hermione cursed in her head. But she needed to remain optimistic. Ron  _had_  to be alright. Harry, too. They just had to destroy the last Horcruxes.  _Piece of_ cake, she thought, ignoring the sarcastic tint in her own mind. That's why they had split up. Ron would destroy the stupid cup, Harry had by now hopefully found Ravenclaw's diadem …and Hermione needed to get to Nagini.

"Come on, Hermione," she urged herself on.

In the distance, she could hear the battle. Fear knotted up her stomach. So many of her friends were out there, fighting for their lives. They were so close to victory. Soon, Voldemort would be mortal again. That small hope had just skimmed Hermione's mind as a curse whirred past her head, missing her by inches.

"Shit!"

She threw herself to the side, simultaneously raising her wand at the Death Eater in front of her. His white mask glowed eerily in the dark, while the rest of his body was disguised by his black cloak. Quickly, Hermione whirled her wand through the air and threw a yellowish curse at him. She was pretty sure it would have hit its target, if she hadn't been distracted by a second Death Eater showing up out of no-where. He attacked and although Hermione managed to raise a shield, his curse violently hurled her against the wall.

"Damn!" she snapped irately, trying to get up again. Wand raised, she turned to the Death Eaters. "Why're you even here? The battle is going on  _outside_."

One of the Death Eaters, his white mask partly blackened by soot, shrugged his shoulders. "We're… er… morally supporting them from here?" At Hermione's doubtful look he added loftily, "I'm sure the others will win without us."

The other Death Eater nodded enthusiastically. "No-one's gonna notice we've been gone."

Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, "Lazy bastards," while she brandished her wand. Her magic coiled around the pieces of broken stone lying around the corridor. Hermione raised her wand and could feel the strain on her magic as the stones were heaved in the air. Another flick of her wand and the stones rushed towards the two Death Eaters. Seeing their oncoming doom, both men wildly brandished their wands. They both managed to raise shields in time, but the shield the guy with the sooty mask had conjured was rather flimsy. Hermione watched as one of her projectiles penetrated the paper-thin shield and crashed into the man's right side. He cried out in pain as bones broke and he was hurled away, wand lost somewhere in the wreckage.

"Avada kedavra!"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as the green curse rushed towards her. It was a close call but she managed to dive out of the way. The green light harmlessly crashed into the stone floor. With a shaky hand, Hermione brandished her wand and sent an angry curse towards the remaining Death Eater. The guy seemed to have talent, though. With a flick of his wand, he cancelled her attack. Hermione stood up and flicked dust from her shoulder while she glared at the man.

"What now?" he goaded scornfully. "Out of ideas?"

"You wish," Hermione growled under her breath.

Still clasping her wand tightly, she crossed her arms in front of her. Her magic followed her lead and eagerly built up inside of her until it was a raging storm that Hermione could barely reign in. Then she sharply extended her arms to the sides. The movement activated her magic and like a shockwave it swept over the corridor, leaving behind deep cracks in the stone floor.

Hermione watched as her powerful magic furiously crashed into the Death Eater. He was brutally hurled away, almost out of a huge hole in the outer wall, but he managed to hold on. Finally, with a slash of his wand, he managed to part Hermione's attack, so it rushed harmlessly around him. At least she had managed to leave a deep bleeding cut in his wand arm. Hermione grinned.

"Stupid Mudblood," the Death Eater spat at her.

"Oh, so suddenly you know who I am, do you?" Hermione asked mockingly.

The guy raised his wand and hissed, "My Master will reward me when I bring him your head."

Hermione crinkled her nose in disgust, but couldn't comment on that colourful image as the man again attacked and another curse sailed her way.  _Bloke certainly is stubborn_. Deftly, Hermione sidestepped the curse. It was almost too easy and she grinned triumphantly at the Death Eater who again waved his wand. Hermione just wanted to start a counter attack as she heard a crunching sound coming from behind her. Her blood froze over. Wand still raised at the Death Eater, she turned her head. To her horror, she spotted another Death Eater in the corridor who had silently crept up on her. His stealth attack revealed, the man abandoned all caution and slashed his wand through the air. Once again, a sickly hissing curse rushed towards Hermione. Through the corners of her eyes she saw that the first Death Eater used exactly the same moment to attack as well. She was trapped between two incoming curses. Frantically, Hermione tried to throw herself out of the way. It was painfully obvious, though, that she would be too slow. At least, one curse would hit.

Hermione felt the magic balefully crackle in the air,

could smell the thick smoke from the burning castle.

Her blood rushed loudly in her ears.

Both curses sizzled lethally as they rushed towards her.

Hermione's last thought was one of hope. She dearly hoped that Harry and Ron would kick Voldemort's ass for this.

Then she blanked out and not even pain could follow her.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	2. Meet the Princess

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

Hermione groaned as consciousness came back to her. Her head hurt as if someone was piercing her skull with a drill. The pain made her want to throw up. Her agony wasn't soothed in the slightest as something hard was thrown at her, bouncing against her back.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione lamented miserably. "What the hell…?

"I'm not saying it again," a rather obnoxious voice penetrated her poor head. "Get up. I have things to do and you're detaining me already."

"Ngh," was Hermione's sophisticated reply.

Slowly, she managed to roll onto her back, her head swirling horribly. Someone near-by – probably the obnoxious speaker from before – huffed in annoyance.

"Get a move on," the deep voice ordered bossily.

Hermione tried to get her nausea under control.  _Deep breath in… deep breath out… in… out…_ It didn't really help, but at least her brain decided to resume work. Like electrocuted Hermione sat up as the last events flashed through her mind.  _The Horcruxes!_  She had to… There were Death Eaters! Where was her wand, goddamnit? Hectically, Hermione groped for her wand, eyes darting around to take in her surroundings, ready to defend or attack. Expecting to find a broken down Hogwarts' corridor and Death Eaters closing in on her, Hermione was a tad confused to find herself lying in a comfortable king sized bed. It might have been an improvement to being in a besieged castle if she hadn't noticed that under the silk covers, she was very much naked. No wand and feeling quite exposed, Hermione pulled the covers protectively around her.

"What…?" she mumbled, voice breaking over the word.

"I'm serious," the voice from before rebuked her cuttingly. "Leave."

Seething hot, Hermione remembered that she wasn't alone. Paralysed by confusion and fear, she shuffled around on the bed, silk blanket wrapped around her, and stared with wide eyes at the other occupant of the room. For a moment it was as if her mind had taken a leave and she stupidly gawked. Not even two steps away from the bed stood a young man, occupied with stuffing rolls of parchment in what appeared to be a school bag. It wasn't the irate frown on his face that pushed Hermione in a state of shock, nor the fact that he wore a Slytherin uniform. No, the main problem was that she knew the guy. Strangely attractive pale skin, tall wiry built and exceedingly handsome features, he looked just like in that old yearbook Hermione had once found in Hogwarts' library. Now, she felt nothing but terror as she stared at none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Closing the bag with a final thud, young Voldemort turned his gaze on her. Hermione jumped in fright as he glared at her darkly. He opened his mouth and there was a lethal threat wrapped around his smooth silky voice,

"Do I have to pull you out of there?"

Hermione stared at him like a cornered deer facing down the barrel of a hunter's shotgun. Helplessly she shook her head, unable to form any words. Riddle narrowed his eyes angrily and snapped,

"Hurry up, then!"

Frantically, Hermione wondered what he wanted from her. Her heart thumbed fearfully in her chest as she shakily scrambled up. Maybe he didn't want to kill her in the bed because he preferred blood spatters on the floor? Or did he plan to drag her into some kind of torture dungeon? Panic clouded her mind as she finally managed to stand up, knees weak. Riddle's menacing glare had followed her process silently. But as Hermione wrapped the silk blanket tighter around her naked body, Riddle took an angry step towards her.

"No," he hissed at her. "You're leaving this here."

Before Hermione could even whimper in protest, Riddle grabbed a corner of the blanket and violently pulled it away from her. Hermione didn't know if she should faint in fear or shame as she now stood completely naked in front of Riddle. Miraculously, she somehow managed to remain conscious and anxiously blinked up at him. She really didn't know what to expect now, but her thoughts ranged from getting a harmless crucio, to being cut open by an insanely cackling Riddle while he bathed in her blood and guts. In the end, she got nothing of that but just another sour look from Voldemort.

"Don't leave any of your stuff here," he commanded acridly.

With that he pointed at the floor. Hermione furrowed her brow at his extremely impolite tone, but thought it better not to say anything. She noticed pieces of clothing strewn around the floor. Maybe it was for the best to just play along? Fear still wrapped tightly around her, Hermione bent and started to pick up the clothes. With shaky fingers, she gathered the pieces of clothing in her hands. She had never seen them before and she certainly would have never bought such scandalous knickers, but she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers. Hastily, Hermione slipped the clothes on, not even saying anything to the Slytherin style uniform robe. Hermione had barely buttoned up her blouse as Riddle snapped in a rather impatient tone,

"Are you still here?"

Not even looking at her, he waved at her in a shooing gesture. Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line, but didn't say anything to his condescending behaviour. After all, Riddle hadn't killed her and that was definitely a plus. On shaky legs, she stumbled over to the door, expecting to be hit by a curse in her back any second. Nothing happened, though, and Hermione couldn't believe her sheer luck as she left the room and Riddle behind.

Her confusion mounted up to new heights as she shakily staggered into what could only be the Slytherin common room. A few Slytherins lounged on the couches, throwing her inquisitive looks. Hermione stared at them in bewilderment. What business did they have lazing around here? Hadn't they noticed? The castle was under attack! Hermione didn't say anything, maybe they were Voldemort's supporters. After all they  _were_  Slytherins. Hastily, she crossed the room and exited.

Hermione bolted away from the Slytherin common room, not wanting to linger any longer than necessary. At least her luck hadn't completely run out. Tugged away in the Slytherin robe, Hermione found a wand. So, battle-ready, she dashed up the stairs and quickly left the dungeons behind, intending to re-join the battle. After all, she still needed to find and kill Nagini.

The only thing she managed as she ran into the Entrance Hall, wand in hand and a wild look in her eyes, though, was to evoke a lot of strange looks from the students calmly strolling around. Flabbergasted, Hermione stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall and her wand sunk uselessly back to her side. There was no destruction, no caved in outer walls, no Death Eaters trying to kill everyone on sight and no Dark Lord threatening to burn them all alive. Instead of that, students walked about, joking and laughing, as if it were any normal school day at Hogwarts.

_This is not right…_  A deep frown appeared on Hermione's forehead. Inconspicuously, she stored the wand away in her robe pocket. Then she left the Entrance Hall and briskly walked deeper into the castle. Wherever she went, though, there were no traces of a battle. Everything was calm. Hermione started to have suspicions as to what had happened to her when she realized that she didn't recognize any of the students. Not even the Gryffindors were familiar to her.

Feeling rather faint, Hermione slipped into a girls' toilet to be alone and compose her rather fragile state of mind. Head swirling with all the implications, Hermione staggered to the sinks and cupped some water into her hands to wet her face. As she looked up into the mirror, abruptly her blood froze over with shock and a strangled groan left her. A complete stranger stared back at Hermione. Falling over her shoulders and cascading down her back, the girl in the mirror had silky jet-black hair that complemented her pale, immaculate skin quite beautifully. Dark, almond-shaped brown eyes with thick long lashes blinked back at Hermione. The stranger's features were delicate – high cheekbones, plump lips – and fit to her petite, slender frame.

Hermione stared at the beautiful mirror image and instantly scrunched up her nose in disgust. This was all kinds of wrong. She cautiously tugged at her straight black hair and felt the strong need to throw up. What the heck had happened?! Hermione grimaced at the mirror image. The girl crinkled her small nose, too, and Hermione felt the sudden urge to punch her in the face. This wasn't her! What had happened to her body?! Utterly disturbed, she clutched the bag she had brought from Riddle's room, and staggered out of the toilet.

"Umph," Hermione grunted as she ran headfirst into someone.

"Watch where you're going!" a voice snapped at her and rough hands pushed her away.

Hermione looked up and was not at all surprised to find Tom Riddle glaring at her accusingly.

"Erm… sorry?" she said in a weak voice.

Automatically, her hand slipped into her robe pocket. She was relieved as her fingers met the smooth wood of a wand. It wasn't  _her_  wand, but Hermione was immensely grateful that she had something to defend herself with. An undignified squeal left her as Riddle suddenly grabbed her arm and ungently pulled her with him. An alarming amount of panic almost suffocated Hermione as she was led away to what could only be her execution.

"Come on," Riddle said in a domineering tone. "We're late for lunch."

"Lunch…?" Hermione echoed feebly, not even fighting against his grip.

"Merlin, you're even slower than usual," Riddle sighed in exasperation.

Hermione's thoughts tangled around in her head, creating a knotty mess. Her blood rushed loudly in her ears, pulse quickened by her fear. In trepidation, she watched how the students around her merrily ignored how she was manhandled by the Dark Lord. This was all manners of wrong. She was feeling faint as her brain supplied her with the only explanation to her predicament.

She was dead. Those stupid Death Eaters had managed to kill her and this was hell.

Hermione groaned pitifully, making Riddle eye her in disgust, while she lamented inwardly. Her 11-years-old-self should have just taken that letter from Hogwarts and burned it immediately. Whatever happened to her dream of being an analytical chemist? Stupid owls delivering important documents? That should have been her first hint.

"You are really bothersome today," Riddle didn't hesitate to inform her. Then he frowned at her in suspicion and inquired, "Did you even go to your classes?"

"...er..." was all Hermione could stupidly mumble.

Riddle merely rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Again? How many classes did you skip this week?"

Hermione glanced at the priggish look on his face but didn't comment. If she was in hell, then he was probably Satan himself. Thoughts whirling with panic, Hermione frantically wondered how she might escape him. Abruptly, she stopped walking, forcing Riddle to stop, too. Annoyance crossed his face and Hermione quickly rummaged through the strange school bag. She needed a distraction. Something. _Anything_. Her shaky fingers came upon a few school essays and she grabbed one.  _Here we go_ , she thought and pulled it out of the bag.

"I need to see a professor about this," Hermione informed Riddle dramatically.

He crinkled his nose. "Why?"

"Because of this…" Hermione checked the grade and almost fainted as she saw a T.  _Troll?!_  "…this… er…"

Riddle chuckled irritatingly. Hermione had to admit he was kind of handsome and it already grated on her nerves how he obviously used that to his advantage.

"I doubt Dumbledore can help you improve that essay, darling." Riddle flashed her an extremely charming and fake smile and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You have to face it, studying just doesn't suit you."

Hermione had to bite her inner cheek hard not to attack him. Desperately concentrating on the facts, she tried to calm down. Dumbledore was somehow around? Her stomach plummeted. The old Headmaster was dead. So did that mean she was dead, too? But why would dear old Dumbledore end up in Hell?

"Don't worry, love," Riddle flirted, charming smile in place. "You have a lot of other talents. Schoolwork is just not one of them."

Hermione could hear the underlying taunt dripping from the words. Did he think she wouldn't notice? The git? Riddle's jibe at her intelligence made Hermione almost burst with sudden anger.

"I'm still going to see Dumbledore," she gritted out through clenched teeth.

She could see Riddle's eyes flash crimson and panicked. Against all odds, he managed to master himself, didn't rip her to shreds and offered lazily,

"I'll accompany you."

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	3. Dead Man Down

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

Through Hogwarts' corridors they wandered to the transfiguration master's office.  _Damn you, Death Eaters, for killing me_ , Hermione thought furiously while following Riddle who for some inexplicable reason Held. Her. Hand. They arrived at the office and Hermione knocked at the door. Hearing a "Please, come in", she entered the office, ignoring Riddle's hints that he would wait for her.  _Freaking stalker!_ she cursed while entering the room. Hermione spotted Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. Hot tears prickled in her eyes as she scanned the old wizard. Seeing the man again was wonderful and a large, if a bit wobbly, smile appeared on Hermione's face. Dumbledore looked a little confused by her enthusiasm, but returned the smile anyway.

"Ms Black, how can I help you?" the wizard inquired kindly.

 _BLACK?!_  Hermione stared at him, aghast, for a good minute. Dumbledore obviously was not surprised by her slowness and waited politely for her to regain her composure. 'Black' was running around in a loop in Hermione's mind, making her feel faint. She pulled her wand, turned around and hurled every secrecy and silencing spell at the door that she could remember. Riddle should really not hear what she had to discuss. Turning back, Dumbledore raised an impressed eyebrow at her. Without a word Hermione plopped in the seat before his desk.

"We have a problem," she stated, not beating around the bush.

"Yes?" Dumbledore inquired, kindly smiling.

"Er… am I dead?" Hermione looked at Dumbledore desperately.

Worry sparkling in his eyes, Dumbledore asked, "Are you alright, Ms Black?"

Not being able to hold back anymore, Hermione snapped, "No! I'm freaking not alright."

Angrily she wiped a few tears from her eyes, glaring at Dumbledore. The wizard cocked an eyebrow and ignored her outburst. Instead he asked politely,

"Maybe you want to see Madam Hambard?"

"Merlin, no!" Hermione lamented, furiously shaking her head. "I don't need to see  _anyone_. I'm  _not_  crazy!"

Dumbledore's eyebrow remained raised and he blinked at her. It didn't take long for Hermione to cave in and concede,

"Okay, maybe I am. I don't know."

Folding his hands, Dumbledore leaned forward on his seat and scanned Hermione over his half-moon spectacles.

"What happened, Ms Black?"

Hermione worried her lower lip and admitted, panic lacing her voice, "I don't know."

Dumbledore nodded and supplied sagely, "Just start at the beginning. I find that always helps."

Hermione exhaled, fighting for calm. The wizard was taking this a bit too lightly for her taste.

"Okay," Hermione snubbed acridly, glaring at Dumbledore. "Here I was, minding my own business. Doing the usual stuff, you know. Breaking into banks, flying around the country on the backs of dragons, helping the Chosen One, fighting against freaking Death Eaters." Dumbledore raised a curious eyebrow, but Hermione didn't stop and continued, "They attacked Hogwarts. Well, frankly, it was to be expected. What with the war going on."

"I'm afraid you don't make much sense," Dumbledore commented, still annoyingly calm.

"No. Obviously not," Hermione conceded. But then continued her story like he hadn't interrupted her. "Well, I was innocently going about my business when two of those wankers assaulted me over at the old Charms classroom. I would have defeated them," she said proudly. ", but some other Death Eater just cursed me from behind my back, the damn coward."

Furrowing his brow, Dumbledore said, "I should probably bring you to the Hospital Wing."

"I seriously hope there's a potion to cure this madness," Hermione deadpanned. "So, after that other bloke hit me with a curse in the back, I blacked out. Actually, I thought I was going to die back then… maybe I did."

Hermione paused and scratched her head, not knowing how to explain what happened next because she didn't really understand it herself. Peering at Dumbledore, she saw he eyed her like he would an insane and possibly dangerous person. Hermione sighed and just went on heatedly,

"Next thing I remember is me waking up in that room. All in Slytherin green, mind you. And then Tom  _freaking_  Riddle is there. I almost cursed him on the spot."

Dumbledore didn't interrupt her again, so Hermione assumed that having urges to curse Riddle wasn't something unknown to him.

"Well, I didn't curse him," she continued. ", but thought to just play along. Surely that curse that hit me did something to my brain. That's what I thought before I looked into a mirror."

Hermione stared at Dumbledore desperation in her eyes. "I mean look at me!" She gestured at her face. "That's not right at all."

Dumbledore still eyed her like she was a crazy person. "Let me assure you, Ms Black, you look perfectly fine."

Hermione couldn't hold in the snort as she heard it, "Merlin's  _balls_! My name is NOT Black!"

"And what is your name, my dear?" Dumbledore inquired cautiously as if talking to a crazy person.

Hermione breathed out impatiently. She really was glad to see Dumbledore alive, but the bloke wasn't exactly helpful at the moment. Forcing a smile on her face, she offered him her hand.

"Granger," Hermione clarified. "Hermione Granger."

The old wizard shook her hand. "Albus Dumbledore."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the insanity of it all. "I know." She leaned back in her chair and said, "You can be honest with me. Am I in hell?"

"I assure you, you are very much alive," Dumbledore informed her kindly.

"Then what is going on?" Hermione shook her head, panic welling up. "Why is  _Tom Riddle_  here? He went to Hogwarts… when? Fricking _decades_  ago. In the forties?"

A look of genuine surprise crossed Dumbledore's face and he said hesitantly, "Ms Granger, we have the year of 1943."

Hermione simply blanched at that, her throat tying up.

"Not what you expected?" he asked kindly.

"No," Hermione croaked, running a shaky hand through her hair. "That is… I guess… but that is… 54 year in the past… "

Dumbledore still eyed her, concern having now replaced the surprise. Hermione glanced at him and, seeing his face, accused,

"You don't believe me."

"It is quite some story, Ms Black… excuse me, Ms Granger."

Hermione sighed tiredly, "Okay, let me impress you with my incredibly inexplicable knowledge I could have only gained in the future." By now there was a dry tint in her voice. "1943, you say? Grindelwald is still at large, eh?" Dumbledore nodded. "I can predict quite accurately that you'll defeat him next year. To be precise at the 27th of Decembre 1944."

Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows.

"You probably wonder why I tell you. It could be changing the future after all," Hermione continued seriously, no sass in her voice anymore. "But I don't think you knowing will change all that much. Between you and me, we both know that you could defeat Grindelwald any time now. You just don't want to at the moment. Although he is the owner of the Elder Wand," Here Dumbledore took in a sharp breath of air. ", you are still a tiny little bit more powerful than he is."

"How do you know about the wand?" Dumbledore inquired and now there was a suspicious undertone in his voice that sharpened it.

"I am from the future." Hermione smiled bitterly. "I know a lot about you. After all I've read Rita Skeeter. I'm sorry to bring this up, but I really need you to believe me." She paused shortly, then continued gently "I know about your brother Aberforth, working in the Hog's head. I know about your sister, too." A pained expression erupted on Dumbledore's face. "I know how she died. I also know about your father and what he did to those Muggles. And if the whole story about Ariana is true, then I would say those Muggle boys didn't deserve any better."

After this Dumbledore stared at her for a long time, face unreadable. Hermione nervously fiddled with the sleeve or her robe, watching him hopefully.

Finally, Dumbledore asked, "Can I assume you are not working for Gellert? He is the only other person who would know all the things you told me, aside from my brother. And I know Aberforth would never tell anyone."

"Well," said Hermione, grinning slightly. "I'm Muggleborn myself, so I would rather rot in hell than help that lunatic."

She was glad to see an amused twinkle dancing in his eyes. "You are Muggleborn?"

"And proud of it." Hermione's smile widened.

"And you say you are from 1997?"

Hermione nodded. The smile died on her face as her predicament hit her again and panic bubbled up. "Professor, I don't know what to do. This is the wrong body. And I don't know how to get back. It's all wrong… and… and... Tom Riddle?! What am I supposed to do?" Tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm scared… I want to go home. I don't belong here. My friends need me in the future. And… and  _Tom Riddle_?! He'll kill me. I'm sure he will. I don't wanna die here."

Hermione raised her hand and wiped the tears away that rolled down her cheeks.

"Calm down, Hermione," Dumbledore soothed. "No-one is going to harm you."

Hermione laughed hysterically. "You don't understand. It's  _Tom Marvolo Riddle_! And he's waiting for me right outside this room."

"Can I assume you know him then in the future?" Dumbledore asked gingerly.

"Oh yes. Yes, we've crossed paths, you could say." Hermione replied, fighting against sobs. "I don't want him anywhere near me."

Dumbledore offered her a handkerchief. Hermione took it, blowing her nose loudly.

"This could be problematic," Dumbledore told her cautiously. "You are Tom Riddle's girlfriend at the moment."

Shock completely paralysing her system, Hermione stared and shook her head in denial.

"No."

"I'm afraid you are."

Dumbledore patted her arm, sympathy swimming in his clear blue eyes. Or maybe it were condolences, Hermione wasn't sure.

"Oh sweet Circe," she mumbled under her breath. " _Merlin_  help me! I'll die. That's it. I'll die. Just like that. I never imagined it to be like this. What can-"

"Please, calm down, Hermione," Dumbledore again tried to soothe her. "I'm sure Tom's not going to just kill his girlfriend all of a sudden."

Hermione drowned him in a disbelieving look. "Myrtle rings a bell?"

"So, it really was him?" Dumbledore stated sadly. After Hermione nodded, he tried to console her with, "Well, she hasn't been his girlfriend."

"Professor, he'll find out I'm not … er… what's my current name?"

"Rosalie Black," he provided. "You are a seventh year and in Slytherin house."

"No, really?" Hermione sniped sarcastically. "A Black in Slytherin? What  _has_  this world come to?"

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "Naturally. You have a brother here at Hogwarts. Cygnus Black, is a sixth year and also in Slytherin. As far as I know Rosalie Black is rather happy in her house. She's very popular and has a lot of friends."

"Ha, as if Slytherins have friends. They only have acquaintances."

"I guess you were not in Slytherin back in your time?"

"No. Gryffindor." Hermione hesitated shortly before asking, "Sir? Judging by her taste in men, I might not like Rosalie Black at all, but do you think… I… She's not dead because of me, is she?"

Dumbledore scanned her for a moment. Then he said, carefully choosing his words, "To tell you the truth, Hermione. I do not know. I have never heard about any spell capable to cause people to switch their bodies and simultaneously send them back in time."

_It_ _is_ _rather farfetched, isn't it?_

Hermione bit her lower lip. Dumbledore just smiled at her, reassuring, "Don't worry, my dear. I will look into this. Maybe I will be able to find an explanation."

Hermione raised her face at him. "And hopefully a way to reverse it? You see, I'm needed in my time. And I don't wanna stay here with Vo- Riddle."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will do my best. Do you have any idea what spell it was that hit you in the back?"

Hermione sadly shook her head. "I guess it was Dark Magic, though."

"I see," Dumbledore replied. Then he promised, "I will investigate this, Hermione. In the meantime, I suggest you stay here at Hogwarts and try to blend in as best as you can."

"As Rosalie Black?" Hermione said tonelessly.

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded.

"I don't know anything about her. How can I pull that off?"

"I will ask Professor Slughorn to give me Ms Black's dossier," Dumbledore told her. "Aside from that, I'm afraid, it all depends on your acting ability."

Hermione groaned. "And her boyfriend is Tom Riddle?" she asked, desperate lilt in her voice.

"Yes."

"Man, I really can't pull this off," Hermione lamented. Her eyes flashed at Dumbledore. "They are not… you know… in a  _serious_  relationship."

Dumbledore raised an inquisitive eyebrow, making Hermione groan again. She wasn't very keen on discussing this with Dumbledore.

"Okay. Let me be blunt." She sat up straighter in her chair and exclaimed unsmilingly, "If that git tries to  _touch_  me, I am going to cut off his manhood and feed it to the Threstrals. Bless the poor beasts."

With that she got up from her seat, not wanting to hear any comment from Dumbledore to that statement. She bent to grab her – or rather Rosalie's – bag. Before she turned to leave the office, she said insecurely,

"And you will tell me when you find anything. Yes?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Of course, Hermione. I might even ask you to visit me again so we can discuss this some more."

"Everything you need," Hermione hurriedly promised. "I want to leave here as fast as possible."

With that Hermione took her leave. As she stepped out of Dumbledore's office and found Tom Riddle casually leaned against the corridor wall, she wanted to turn on the spot and run away. Suppressing her flight instinct, Hermione took a step towards the Dark Lord. Tom Riddle's eyes were a freakish shade of blue, Hermione noticed as they calmly wandered over her form. The intensity of his gaze made her squirm. He pushed away from the wall and stepped over to her.

 _I can't do this. I can't do this_ , was all that echoed through Hermione's head as Tom Riddle gracefully stalked over to her, stopping right in front of her. He was at least a head taller than her and towered over her while his mesmerising eyes continued to study her.

 _Calm down, Hermione_ , she frantically tried to tell herself.  _He's only a boy. Nothing to worry about. Only a boy… who is going to murder you should he ever find out who you are._   _Damn!_

"What took you so long?" Riddle asked, his soft voice like dark velvet.

Hermione stared up at him with huge eyes. She couldn't believe she had to  _talk_  with Lord Voldemort here.

"Erm… That is… I…" She squirmed until she remembered her white lie, "Well, we went over my essay and Dumbledore said I was allowed to write it again."

Riddle arched an elegant eyebrow. "Really?"

Hermione saw the beginnings of a smirk on his face as he inquired casually, "What was that essay about again?"

Hermione blushed slightly. Well, she had no idea what the stupid essay was about.

"I kinda… er…" Hermione wished she could just hex the smirk off his arrogant face. "Forgot?"

Riddle chuckled melodiously as he heard her reply. Hermione was relieved, though, that he didn't seem suspicious.

"Oh, Rosalie," he purred indulgently at her. "Didn't I tell you this would be a waste of your and, more importantly,  _my_  time?"

Riddle's statement was accompanied by what was probably supposed to be a charming smile. To Hermione it was nothing but condescending.  _Well, I didn't ask you to accompany me here, you prick,_  Hermione huffed in her head. Riddle, not able to hear her mental rant, took her hand in his and started to lead her down the corridor. Hermione stiffened in fear as he touched her and just followed him. As they walked Riddle turned his head and let his eyes wander over her form.

"You didn't forget we want to go to Hogsmeade today?" he asked abruptly.

Actually whenever he used 'we' it more sounded like an 'I'. Hermione hid her angry scowl and said innocently,

"No?"

There was a disapproving frown on Riddle's face and he ordered her in quite the commanding voice, "Well, then you will have to change your clothes."

His cold eyes once again wandered over her, admittedly crinkly, Hogwarts uniform. Hermione for one didn't feel responsible. After all, she inhabited this body since only a few hours. And she had quite the suspicion that it was Riddle's fault her clothes had been strewn around his room.

"Honestly you look like a scarecrow, Rosalie," Riddle said icily. He bent down to her and placed a horribly cold kiss on her cheek. "You don't want to embarrass me, do you?"

Indignation gnawed at Hermione. It physically hurt. She so wanted to just kick him. The accusing look he threw her way was quite aggravating. It made Hermione realize that Rosalie Black wasn't really Riddle's girlfriend. Well, she  _had_  been confused about it. Tom Heartless Riddle, having a girlfriend? No, impossible. Now Hermione realized that Rosalie Black was nothing more than a plaything. And Riddle - Hermione mused as she glanced up at the fastidious sneer on his face - was quite the nasty boyfriend, wasn't he?

_Oh noes. Lord Voldemort is a shitty boyfriend? Whoever would have known?_

Once again Hermione swallowed down another sassy reply and instead breathed duteously, "No, of course not, Tom."

"Good then." He decided imperiously, "We meet in half an hour in the common room. Don't make me wait."

Without further ado, he just turned around and left her standing in the corridor.  _What a conceited peacock,_  Hermione thought furiously. He behaved as if he was doing her a favour by spending time with her. Seriously, he didn't have to lower himself on her behalf. Still, Hermione checked her watch. She didn't want to blow her cover this early in and Rosalie Black seemed to be quite the push-over. Hermione raised her eyebrows as she scanned the delicate and very expensive looking silver watch on her wrist. The Black's weren't exactly candidates for the poor house, were they?

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	4. Undercover Nerd

So, it turned out Rosalie Black seemed to be something like the most popular girl in Slytherin. At least, that was Hermione's conclusion after she had stepped into the Slytherin common room. By now, most of the students were here and they seemed to be fighting to gain Hermione's precious attention. It was rather embarrassing, really. Hermione felt incredibly self-conscious under all the attention and wanted to escape. Getting the cold shoulder, though, only seemed to spur the Slytherins on.

"H- hello." a Slytherin boy with short curly hair and pimply skin had dared to walk up to her.

"Yeah… hi," Hermione replied hesitantly.

The guy sat down beside her on the sofa, nervous smile on his face. Hermione felt uncomfortable. She didn't even know the bloke's name. What was she supposed to do here? She frowned at him, wondering what to say. Obviously being used to getting frowned at, the guy simply smiled at her. Then he dove for his bag and pulled out a rolled up parchment.

"Here." He offered her the parchment, giggling sheepishly. "It's all done. Promise."

"Er… that is… nice?"

Hermione took the parchment, her fingers accidentally brushing against his. Promptly, the guy again broke down into giggles and blushed, making his pimples stand out even more. With adoration shining in his eyes, he looked at Hermione, nodding at the parchment. Hermione didn't see a way out so she unrolled it. One glance at the parchment told her it was a Herbology essay, seemingly about the Common Plangentine.

"Oookay…" Hermione said helplessly. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You said you needed that for Beery next week, didn't you?" the Slytherin boy supplied timidly. "You'll get at least an Acceptable for it. Promise."

A sharp frown appeared between Hermione's eyebrows as she stared down at the essay. What was this? Cheating? What exactly did Rosalie Black think she was doing? Letting others write her essays… A scandal. Misinterpreting the angry scowl on Hermione's face, the Slytherin desperately assured,

"It's probably better than an A. I think it's gonna be an E." He slid a bit closer to her and looked at her with pleading eyes. "Y- you said you'd let me sit with you during Herbology if I wrote this. P-please…"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose as she heard that. This was horrible. Rosalie Black was a horrible person. No surprise there, she supposed. After all, she was Voldemort's girlfriend. Hermione felt annoyed and frankly a bit dirty, too. Angrily, she stuffed the offending essay into her bag and stood up.

"R- Rosalie…?" the boy looked up at her imploringly. "Please. Just n- next class. I won't bother you. Promise."

Feeling rather uncomfortable, Hermione pressed out a, "Whatever."

The resulting smile on the boy's face made guilt bubble up in her. Again blushing fiercely he sputtered,

"O- okay. Thank you. I… Thank you!"

Hermione decided she had had enough. Not replying anything, she fled to the dorms. As she stepped into the seventh year dorm, she had to resist the urge to rub her eyes in wonder. That was one huge room for only… one, two, three …four beds. There were no four-posters, like back in the Gryffindor dorms. Instead, four queen sized beds stood proudly in the room, dark silk blankets covering them. Then there were huge mahogany wardrobes, delicate looking small tables and fine nappa couches spread decadently around the room.

Looks like a horde of snobs ran through, decorating wildly, Hermione scoffed as she narrowed her eyes at the Slytherin dorm. She helplessly eyed the beds and wondered which one was Rosalie's. Her musings were cut short by a voice.

"There you are."

Hermione looked over to the sitting area on the other side of the room. She only now spotted the two girls sitting, or rather lounging, there.

"Um… yeah." Hermione scratched her head in embarrassment.

Surreptitiously, she scanned the girls. It was save to say they were both beautiful. One had long glossy blond hair that was curled into a complicated pattern of locks. Her face looked like one of those porcelain dolls, skin perfect, lips plump, eyelashes long and eyes bright blue. Yep, she was beautiful alright. Subconsciously, Hermione reached for her own bushy hear. Only when she touched Rosalie's black hair did she remember that Hermione Granger's body was somewhere else …probably lying face down with a huge gaping hole in her back.

Damn!

The other girl had short brown hair. Her skin was tanned a bit, giving her a healthy and attractive look. She seemed to be a bit smaller than the blonde one, but sitting down Hermione couldn't really contrast to the blonde-haired ice queen, she at least smiled widely at Hermione, making her look a bit more approachable.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come over here," said the brunette amicably.

Slowly, Hermione made her way over to those two beauty queens, feeling rather self-conscious.

"So, where have you been, Rosalie?" the blonde one asked lazily after Hermione had sat down beside her. "All night… You have been with Riddle, haven't you? How was it? Come on, spill."

"Oh, Sarah," the brunette chided half-heartedly, trying to hide a smirk. "You can't ask a lady things like that."

After that debacle in the common room, Hermione started to wonder if Rosalie was really such a lady. She squinted suspiciously at… Rosalie's friends? At least she had a name now. The blonde ice queen was Sarah. Hermione noticed that both girls still stared at her, obviously expecting an answer.

"Yeah…" she said hesitantly, inwardly shuddering at the memory of waking up naked in a room alone with Voldemort. "It was alright… I guess?"

Hermione wasn't quite sure what reaction she expected after that rather unenthusiastic summary of her day… or night with Voldemort. A giggly breakdown? Or maybe exclamations of scandalized tempers. Hermione got neither. The petite brunette only shook her head, looking as if she had just been bereft of some juicy story telling. The blonde, Sarah, only shrugged with a decidedly unimpressed look on her face and ran a hand through her silky hair.

"How long have you been with Riddle now?" Sarah inquired indifferently. "Three months? That's a long time anyway. Maybe-"

"I think it's been over a year," the brunette piped in.

Hermione sincerely hoped they wouldn't ask her, because she had no idea and frankly didn't want to know for how long her current body had been rolling in the hay with Riddle. Luckily for her, Sarah seemed to love her own voice and completely ignored any interjections,

"What I meant to say: maybe it just fizzled out, Rosalie. If a relationship doesn't work anymore, you can't force anything."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, seeing an opportunity approach. If her supposed friends already thought her relationship with Riddle was on the rocks, maybe she could just break the whole thing off without it being suspicious.

"Oh no," the brunette whined. "Rosalie and Tom are the perfect couple. You can't break up."

Sarah threw her friend a look that would have frozen over a polar bear. "Betty, stop your meddling. This is entirely Rosalie's decision."

Hermione sighed. This was tedious. On the up side, though, she had learned a few new names. Sarah and Betty seemed to be Rosalie Black's friends. Hermione wasn't sure how comfortable she felt with that, but at least it was something. The two other girls were still discussing Hermione's alleged relationship with one Lord Voldemort as the door to the dorm creaked open. In stepped another Slytherin girl. Without looking at anyone, the girl hushed over to one of the beds, almost ducking behind it. Hermione frowned at that suspicious entrance.

"Gamp," Sarah sneered in quite the haughty voice at the newcomer. "Don't you have your lute lesson now?"

Betty giggled spitefully at the word 'lute'. The other girl – Gamp – ducked even deeper behind her bed, mumbling something shakily in reply. Hermione blinked at her in confusion.

"What's that?" Betty said, fake concern painfully obvious in her voice. "I didn't hear you."

"Got cancelled," Gamp mumbled meekly.

"Oh, I wonder why that is," Sarah sighed, biting sarcasm in her tone. "Why would anyone want to cancel the precious lute lessons?"

Betty smirked maliciously and Gamp twitched in reply, or it was a shrug, Hermione couldn't tell. The girl sat on her bed but held her head bent, so her dark hair obscured her face as if she were too afraid to look up and face her room mates. Hermione couldn't tell why she was target of the sharp disdain of the other two Slytherins. She looked like any normal girl and playing the lute was hardly the worst pastime Hermione could imagine. Quidditch was a lot worse if anyone asked her.

…or splitting one's soul and cramming the pieces into Horcruxes. That unwelcome thought brought Hermione back to the problem at hand. Abruptly, she stood up from the couch. Gamp flinched at the movement which Hermione tried to ignore.

"What are you up to?" Sarah inquired curiously, the scathing tinge having left her voice.

"Hm?" Hermione turned to the blonde. "Oh… er… Tom and I wanted to go to Hogsmeade."

"Oh-ho, going out with Riddle?" Betty commented suggestively. Then she glanced at Sarah. "See, those two belong together."

Sarah threw the other a piercing look. Then she smiled at Hermione and said, her sweet voice painfully fake, "I'm sure you two will have fun."

"Uh-huh," Hermione hummed, just to say anything at all.

Then she slipped away from the two girls. Luckily, she had spied the Black crest on one of the bed covers. Well, it seemed it finally paid off that she had spent a whole summer helping to clear out Sirius' old home at Grimmauld Place. The Black crest had been on everything. Hermione stopped herself from rolling her eyes and wandered over to Rosalie's bed. The Gamp girl again flinched nervously and once again, Hermione ignored that ominous reaction. Riddle's warning to 'not embarrass' him with her looks spooked through her head. She would have ignored that as well, but she needed to keep her cover. For now, she would play along.

Now in a sour mood, Hermione opened Roslie's wardrobe and was greeted with an abundance of silk, lace and tulle. It was cramped with skirts, dresses on coathooks, blouses and witch's robes in every colour imaginable. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the many clothes. For Christ's sake, they wore school uniforms most of the time. Hermione shook her head and reached for the first dress that fell into her hands. Dimly, she noticed how Sarah and Betty had gone back to making fun of the fourth girl in their dorm. Hermione would have said something, but Rosalie probably wouldn't. So, she simply disappeared into the bathroom to change.

It didn't take her long to get ready and Hermione left the dorm, feeling stupid. The yellow dress made her feel uncomfortable and she didn't know where to put her wand. Awkwardly, she pushed it into the too small bag. All storage problems were forgotten, though, as she arrived in the common room and spotted her 'date'. Riddle lounged in one of the armchairs, fingers tapping impatiently against the arm rest. Hermione shuddered. Maybe she should just ask Dumbledore if she could live in his office until they could send her back. She could sleep on the floor. No problem.

"You're late," Riddle's frosty voice informed her as he got up from his chair.

Hermione looked up at him and heroically battled the need to curse him. It seemed she would be doing a lot of that in the near future.

"I'm sorry," Hermione pressed out.

Riddle didn't comment but frowned down at her, prompting Hermione to raise her eyebrows. After a long moment, he finally asked,

"Did you gain weight?"

He raised his hands and laid them on her waist. Hermione was too outraged to push him away.

"Yes, I think you really did," Riddle said callously while rubbing his hands over her. "You need to watch out." His blue eyes locked with hers and he added nastily, "I don't like fat asses."

Hermione stared at him, scandalized by what he had just thrown at her. For God's sake, Rosalie Black was a mere 5'4 and probably weighed less than 100 pounds. Hermione looked up at Riddle's arrogant face and found nothing but disapproval there. Vengeful magic raged inside of her like a tornado and she had difficulties controlling it. Her left eye was twitching slightly as she stared at Riddle and she wondered if anyone had ever exploded from supressed magic. Disturbing pictures of what curses she could use on Riddle and their effects drifted through her mind.

"It's gross," the horrible wizard pointed cruelly out. "Maybe you should try to lose a little of your fat."

Maybe you should take your advice and stuff it up your arse! Hermione screamed at him irately in her head. Outwardly, she managed to keep her cool. It took her a lot to swallow down her pride as she whispered in a strained voice,

"You are right, Tom. I'm sorry."

Good God, one of these days I'm sure to burst from all the accumulated anger, Hermione thought as she looked up at Riddle's conceited face. She was glad that she never had any form of romantic illusions about this date, because from there on it only went downhill.

A good two hours later found Hermione sitting in the Hog's Head Inn, surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Even if she tried, she couldn't imagine how a date could possibly go any worse than this. Hot anger burned her insides as she stared at Riddle. A cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, Voldemort sat beside Hermione with an arm lazily draped around her waist while he talked with his henchmen. It was disgusting. His touch was as disgusting as the smoke in the air, his horrible friends around them and the so-called Butterbeer in the dirty glasses. The worst, though, was the odd girl hanging from the side of some of the Death Eaters. The girls were obviously not a part of this meeting and Hermione strongly suspected that looking pretty was the only task they had to fulfil. Hermione couldn't complain, though, because apparently she was one of them. Judging by the envious looks she received, being Riddle's girlfriend turned her into their queen. Bored out of her mind, Hermione peered at the door to the toilets. Maybe she should try to squeeze herself out of the toilet window and finally taste sweet freedom.

"-his back. And it turned out giving someone with a heavily bleeding wound Blood-Replenishing Potion is a bad idea," one of the Death Eaters – Mulciber, Hermione had learned – said, laughing loudly.

The others joined in, snorting with laughter. Even Riddle's lips twitched a bit, eyes sparkling with sadistic pleasure as he probably imagined litres of blood and dying puppies. Hermione felt sick and just wanted to punch someone. Before she completely lost it, she lightly tugged at Riddle's sleeve.

"Tom," she whispered softly. "I just remembered, I have to go. Hope you don't mind."

Predictably, Riddle's blue eyes glared down at her. And he inquired cuttingly, "What could possibly be more important than this?"

Virtually anything else, Hermione replied in her mind. Out loud, she said, "I have to go to the library."

That only made Riddle smirk nastily down at her. Even some of this friends snickered softly as they heard her.

"What would you do in the library?" Riddle asked patronizingly.

Oh shit, Hermione realized too late. That old excuse didn't work anymore now that she had turned into a Slytherin ditz. Too bad. Harry and Ron had fallen for that every single time.

"Now stop joking around," Riddle ordered condescendingly and placed a light kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Here, drink some more."

With that he slid a glass of Firewhiskey in front of her. Then he again completely ignored her and continued his conversation with his Death Eater sidekicks. Hermione shuddered in disgust as she still felt the ghost of his lips on her skin. Not seeing any other way out, she resigned herself to her fate and leaned back in her seat, still with Riddle's arm around her waist. Then she reached for the glass of Firewhiskey and downed it in one go.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	5. The Sleep of Reason

Ah, Hogwarts' corridors, Hermione thought fondly as she walked to her first class this morning. Charms, her timetable told her and Hermione felt elated. She had missed walking the school's old corridors that seemed to exude knowledge. Smile in place, Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It was this unique Hogwarts smell of old books and magic in the air that made Hermione's senses swirl merrily. Her bag was stuffed with textbooks, quills and parchment waiting to be filled and she was more than ready to attend her class. After almost a year of living in a tent with Harry and Ron, Hermione would have been thrilled to attend Divination if it came to it.

Blissful smile in place, Hermione reached her designated classroom. She would have danced into it if she hadn't been concerned about her cover. So, Hermione calmly entered the Charms classroom, playing it cool. It seemed to be a Gryffindor-Slytherin class. Hermione was a bit put off balance as she saw the Gryffindor students throwing her nasty glares. But then she remembered that she was a Slytherin, so she couldn't really blame them. Eyes sweeping over the classroom to find an empty seat, Hermione spotted Betty, her roommate, sitting in the last row and waving at her to come over. A deep frown appeared between Hermione's eyebrows. The last row? Why would anybody want to sit there when there were obviously seats free in the first row? As Hermione stood motionlessly in the door, Betty's waving got more and more enthusiastic and the Gryffindors' glares darker and darker.

Very reluctantly, Hermione trotted all the way to the back of the classroom. She would need binoculars to be able to see the blackboard from here. Mumbling angrily under her breath, Hermione plopped down in the seat beside Betty. The girl smiled annoyingly and chirped,

"What took you so long?"

Hermione was spared from answering as the professor entered the room. Quickly the chatter died down and the teacher jumped right into the lecture. Hermione frowned and eyed the Professor. Grey hair, almost skeletally thin, the woman wildly gesticulated at a diagram she had put on the blackboard. Hermione wondered what her name was, but couldn't very well ask. After years of classes, Rosalie Black should probably know the Charms Professor's name. Whatever the professor's name was, Hermione couldn't concentrate on her class anyway. Obviously, Betty had confused Charms with Divination and was happily chatting away. Nervously, Hermione threw another glance at the professor. She either didn't see Betty's inattention or she didn't care, because she simply continued on with her lesson.

"-and then uncle Morag managed to get sued," Betty whispered excitedly into Hermione's ear. "Sexual harassment. Let me tell you, it was a scandal. He was dragged before court and pleaded temporary insanity …apparently, he had been drunk at the time and couldn't remember a thing."

Hermione gritted her teeth, anger swelling inside of her. The professor had explained something, but she hadn't heard any of that because of Betty's inane chatter.

"Turned out that was the wrong move," Betty continued merrily. "You see, that night, uncle Morag had disapparated as the Aurors appeared. So, drunk-apparating." She giggled. "In the end, he lost his license and still had to go to prison for six months and pay the guy he harassed 500 Galleons. Merlin, you should have seen my grandmother. She would have killed him if he hadn't been in prison. That was really-"

Hermione tried to tune out Betty's intrusive voice. Her hands in her lap balled into angry fists. Her whole body trembled slightly as she had to physically restrain herself from rebuking Betty. Chatting during class?!

"Now kindly practise the charm in pairs," the professor suddenly said.

Hermione blinked at the teacher, feeling horribly lost. What charm did they practise? She hadn't heard a thing of the lecture. In trepidation, Hermione watched the other students starting to brandish their wands. Well, at least she didn't have to endure Betty's chatter anymore, because they now had to concentrate on their wandwork.

"-and it wasn't even the alcohol," To Hermione's horror Betty just continued her story. Now not even trying to keep her voice down. "She was just furious that he got caught. Not very good for the family name."

Hermione irately narrowed her eyes at Betty. The girl had pulled her wand, but just uselessly waved it through the air to emphasize her words. She didn't even try the charm.

"Should we not… maybe…" Hermione pressed out tightly. "Practise the charm?"

Betty raised a delicately plucked eyebrow at her. "Why? Is the old hag looking our way?" Surreptitiously, she peered at the professor. "No. No, it's fine. She's over there with Robins. We're safe." She turned back to Hermione. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes, of course. So, after uncle Morag left for prison-"

Hermione stared at Betty in pure outrage. Was this a usual occurrence? Sitting in the last row, chitchatting during class, not following a professor's instruction… Who exactly was Rosalie Black?!

"Settle down, settle down." It was half an hour later that the professor called their attention, "I hope you all had enough time to practise. I saw some of you making wonderful process."

The other students smiled proudly and Hermione felt like crying. The professor continued,

"Now, who wants to show us how to perform the charm?" Her eyes wandered over the class and, to Hermione's horror, came to rest on her. "Ah, yes, Ms Black how about you?"

This was a nightmare. It was as if the whole classroom had turned into a Boggart. Hermione felt terrible as the attention of the class shifted to her. She still had no idea what charm they had learned today. Helplessly, she peered at Betty, but the girl just shrugged.

"Ms Black?" the professor prompted.

Merlin, this couldn't get any worse. Hermione could hear scornful snickers coming from the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Blushing fiercely, she mumbled stupidly,

"Oh… erm… I'm sorry, professor. I… er… forgot my wand."

The snickers got louder and the professor frowned reproachfully at Hermione. If only the ground would swallow her up. This was the most horrible class Hermione had ever attended …even worse than Hagrid's classes and the Blast-Ended Skrewts.

"Ms Black, I am really disappointed in you," the professor said sternly. "After your last essay, you really need to put a lot more effort into this class. Five points from Slytherin."

Hermione ducked her head, face red with shame. "Yes, professor. I'm sorry."

The professor threw her another glare, before she continued with her lesson. Hermione still stared down at her table, feeling utterly humiliated.

"Good one," Betty laughed into her ear. "Forgot your wand. A classic."

Now hot fury joined the humiliation and formed a tight ball in Hermione's stomach. Irately, she glowered at Betty. The other girl remained to be ignorant and idly doodled on her parchment, again not paying any attention to class. Hermione continued to seethe in her own anger and misery until, fifteen minutes later, the still un-named professor concluded the lesson. Quickly, the ex-Gryffindor stuffed her textbook into her bag, shameful blush still on her face. This was not at all fun. Stupid Rosalie. Stupid time travel. Great. They had managed to do the impossible: Taking the fun out of school. With a big scowl on her face, Hermione marched to the door, leaving Betty behind. She just passed a group of Gryffindors as she heard one of them whisper,

"What a bimbo."

Anger flaring up in her, Hermione whirled around to them and snapped, "What did you just say?"

All four Gryffindors spitefully grinned at her. The girl who had spoken, gave Hermione a once over, and supplied venomously,

"When you spend more money on hair products than on school books, then you know that you're a first class bimbo."

The other Gryffindors jeered at her friend's jab. Temper flaring dangerously, Hermione took a threatening step towards them and pulled her wand.

"Watch what you're saying!"

It didn't seem to impress the Gryffindors at all. They didn't even react to Hermione's wand as if not expecting an attack at all. In fact, one of them even gestured at her wand with a mock pitiful look.

"Be careful," he told Hermione. "You're just gonna hurt yourself."

In return, Hermione raised her wand and hissed, "I'll show you who's going to end up hurt."

The Gryffindor bloke only snorted, still not pulling his wand, while one of the girls mocked Hermione,

"Don't strain yourself, Black. We all know you got thrown out of DADA."

Hermione had had enough. This was childish. She threw all of them a withering glare for good measure, then she turned and stomped away. Their ridiculing laughter followed her, but Hermione just ignored it. They're mocking Rosalie Black. Not me, she tried to calm herself. It didn't really work. She was still angry and slightly hurt as she arrived in the Great Hall for lunch.

The rest of her classes were hardly any better. At the end of the day, Hermione was close to tears. She stumbled through the castle in a state of shock. The whole day, she had been either scolded or drowned in disappointement by the professors and mocked by the Gryffindors. The worst thing, though, was that the other houses treated her like some kind of celebrity. Rosalie Black failed every class and yet they admired her. What had this world come to? During lunch today a lanky fifth year boy from Ravenclaw, apparently the president of the Gobstones Club, had come over to Hermione and asked her sheepishly on a date, looking at her with shiny hopeful eyes. Hermione had felt on equal parts relieved and dirty to be able to decline with the excuse that she already had a boyfriend, namely Tom Riddle.

Now, she just felt sick of it all and wanted to curl up in some dark corner and die. Clutching her school bag like a safety blanket, Hermione staggered back to the Slytherin common room. As she entered the common room, her day suddenly became that much worse. Tom Riddle lounged on one of the black sofas, surrounded by his henchmen. Upon her entrance, he looked up, his icy blue eyes slowly raking over her body. It made Hermione shiver and not in a good way. To her horror, Riddle waved her over. She shortly debated to try acting as if she hadn't seen him, but rejected that plan quickly as the other Slytherins sitting around Riddle also noticed her. So, it was with much reluctance that Hermione obediently walked over to Riddle.

"Rosalie," Riddle greeted her in a rather disinterested tone.

Then he pulled her down on the couch and tugged her against his side. Hermione's skin itched uncomfortably where she made contact with Riddle's warm body. With difficulty she stopped herself from shoving the pushy Slytherin away from her person.

"What have you been up to?" one of the other Slytherins asked her, grin in place.

Hermione furrowed her brow, trying to remember his name. She thought he was a Malfoy – maybe Abraxas? – but she wasn't sure. At the very least he didn't look anything like Lucius with his black hair and brown eyes, though the conceited air around him was rather familiar.

"Care of Magical Creatures," Hermione informed him curtly, not wanting to think about her classes anymore.

The condescending smirk on Malfoy's – probably Abraxas' – face got even more pronounced and he inquired delicately,

"Oh? I thought you dropped that? It's not really required."

Hermione opened her mouth to snap at him that scraping by with the bare minimum of classes was not an acceptable approach for the NEWTs, when Riddle butted in. There was a scornful smirk curling his lips as he said, turned to Malfoy,

"Rosalie already dropped History of Magic, Astronomy and Divination. So she had to keep either DADA or Care of Magical Creatures. I told her to keep Care of Magical Creatures. It's by far easier."

Riddle's explanation made Malfoy nod in understanding and Hermione almost explode with bottled-up anger. In the next second, though, crippling horror washed over her. Rosalie had dropped History of Magic, Astronomy and DADA?! I- is that even possible? The thought alone made Hermione feel physically ill. She almost leaned into the body beside her, seeking solace, but then remembered it was Riddle and recoiled in disgust.

Mulciber, sitting beside Abraxas, grinned at Hermione and suggested, "You know, if you want to, I could tutor you."

If her supposed boyfriend hadn't sat right beside her, Hermione would have sworn the Slytherin had sent her a seductive wink. Abraxas, condescending sneer still in place, drawled,

"Don't you think Tom already tried that? After all he is top of our year."

A rather ill-disguised smirk crossing Riddle's face and Hermione's temper peaked as she saw it. The bloke was practically asking to be punched in the face, wasn't he? She inhaled deeply and released a long breath of air, trying to find her equanimity. Riddle, oblivious to her upcoming rage, placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Rosalie just has a different learning rate," he said soothingly, although the devilish glint in his eyes belied his sincerity.

Abraxas simpered irritatingly, "Indeed? It's a shame the professors can't cater to her special needs, then."

Hermione almost choked on her seething hot anger. With tremendous effort, she kept the fury from showing on her face as she stared at the Slytherins. Malfoy smirked at her provokingly, smug look on his face, and Hermione balled her hands into fists. She counted to ten, trying to reign in her angry magic.

Luckily, Riddle then changed the topic of their conversation and all of them proceeded to ignore the Slytherin slash Ex-Gryffindor girl hanging from his side. She might as well have been a sack of potatoes for all the attention they paid her. Hermione wondered if she should try slipping away, but was abruptly ripped from her thoughts when a sneaky hand skimmed over her side, aiming for the hem of her blouse. Her whole body tensed up and carefully, keeping the disgust from showing on her face, Hermione turned her head and peered up at Riddle. Although, he was definitely feeling her up, the Slytherin didn't pay Hermione much more attention. Lazy smirk in place, he talked with his Death Eater friends while he groped her. Fury boiled up in Hermione, but she was yet again unable to act on it and felt disgusted with herself as she felt Riddle's hand slip under her blouse, softly caressing the bare skin underneath.

It was some time later that Riddle had enough with this Death Eater chitchat. Without asking, he pulled Hermione rudely with him as he left the common room for the dorms. Hermione felt uncomfortable with the situation as Riddle pushed her into his own dorm. Being alone with Lord Voldemort probably was not the best of ideas. Worrying her lower lip, Hermione hesitantly walked into the room. It was more or less the same as the girls' dorm. The last time she had been in here Hermione had woken up completely naked in the wrong time period with Lord Voldemort looming over her. The sheer memory made Hermione scrunch up her face in disgust.

"You look stressed," Riddle's deep voice said.

Hermione startled, having successfully forgotten about his presence, and whirled around to him. The Slytherin lounged on his bed and studied Hermione with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

"I'm fine," Hermione lied unconvincingly.

A smirk curved Riddle's lips and he replied, "Maybe you just need a bit exercise to work off your stress."

Hermione furrowed her brow at him, not liking where this conversation was headed. Riddle just continued to scan her hungrily. Eyes shamelessly raking over her body, the Slytherin reached for his robe pocket and pulled a pack of smokes. Hermione watched in growing outrage as Riddle lit himself a cigarette. Contently, he puffed smoke into the air while Hermione's lips narrowed into a thin angry line. Did the git notice that they were in the dungeons, hence no windows? Also, did he ever hear about such a thing as passive smoking? Hermione certainly did not appreciate getting lung cancer, thankyouverymuch.

Riddle, unaware of Hermione's wrath, purred in an alarmingly seductive tone of voice, "It's rather hot, isn't it? How about you get rid of that warm robe of yours."

Instantly, Hermione wrapped her uniform robe tighter around her body and stared at Riddle with wide eyes. What a creep. It was now that the kink in her mission 'Undercover Slytherin' hit her full force right in the face. Going underground as Rosalie Black had sounded like the best course of action at the time, but now that she was alone with Riddle and that hungry look on his face it didn't anymore. Her heart fluttering quite distractingly, Hermione stumbled a step away from the Slytherin. Seeing her retreat, Riddle narrowed his eyes at her and asked testily,

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing's wrong," Hermione replied shakily, her voice a bit too high. "Why would you say that?"

Riddle stared at her with his ridiculously blue eyes, making chills dart up and down Hermione's spine. Then slowly a smirk twisted the corners of his mouth and he said, his voice velvety smooth,

"Well, we're alone… undisturbed… and yet," He threw her a look which was more of a leer actually. ", I'm here and you're over there all alone. That's really not your usual style. Why don't you join me and we have a bit of fun?"

Now the smirk on Riddle's face had grown positively indecent and he patted the space beside him on the bed invitingly. With wide eyes, Hermione stared at him and his shady behaviour.

"Yeeeaah…" she drew out, grasping at straws. "We could do that… or we, you know, talk. We haven't talked in a while have we?"

Riddle gazed at her for a moment as if frozen in time, mildly disturbed by her suggestion. Then a sharp frown appeared between his eyebrows and for the first time Hermione wondered who had been idiotic enough to put anti-apparition wards on the castle. A quick exit would have been appreciated at this precise moment.

"Okay then," Riddle surprisingly conceded, though the devilish glint in his eyes said otherwise. "What do you want to talk about?"

Having a chat with Voldemort? Hermione could think of a few questions she might want to have answered. How'd it feel splitting your soul? Do you regret killing your own father? Why didn't you put a piece of your soul in a seashell and threw it into the Atlantic Ocean? Hermione couldn't ask any of that, and also didn't want to give him ideas, so she went with a more harmless,

"How was your day?"

Riddle laughed softly at her and, even though he was quite annoying at the moment, Hermione had to admit he also looked incredibly handsome in his sleek uniform and eyes flashing with a dangerous light.

"Oh, you know. The usual," Riddle drawled, eyes never leaving her. "Classes were kind of boring. I think I should have dropped Ancient Runes. Frankly, it's a waste of my time."

Hermione smiled at him, feigning approval, while inwardly she ground her teeth in righteous fury. Ancient Runes was one of the most interesting classes Hogwarts offered. How dare he?!

"Is that so?" Hermione barely managed to keep the upcoming rage from her tone.

Riddle merely looked at her and Hermione shuddered as his heated gaze ran up and down her body as if undressing her in his mind.

"What… er… what else happened?" she stammered, hating herself as she blushed fiercely.

The stupid Slytherin threw her a smug smirk, stubbed his cigarette carelessly in an ashtray and offered, "Being Head Boy, I had to oversee the prefects meeting." He eyed Hermione condescendingly. "You're lucky you don't have any responsibilities, Rosalie. Believe me, it can get quite taxing."

Hermione balled her hands into tight fists and tried not to roll her eyes at Riddle. She'd been a prefect herself. During the last prefects meeting Hermione attended, the Head Boy, Malcolm Preece at the time, had been snoozing in a corner, happily drooling on himself. A very responsible position, indeed. Once again, Hermione did not let her sarcasm out, but instead forced a reverent look on her face and nodded.

Gracefully, Riddle got up and stalked over to her. Hermione's whole body tensed as he suddenly was so close. Attractive smile playing around his lips, he looked down at her and ran a gentle hand over her arm. And, Merlin, that should be creepy as hell, but Hermione could only feel an excited flutter in her stomach at the contact.

"Tell me," Riddle whispered silkily in her ear. "How was your day, love?"

Hermione stared into his startlingly blue eyes, feeling mesmerised. She didn't even mind that Riddle's hand had left her arm and his fingers now danced over her side, leaving pleasant shivers in their wake.

"My day…?" Hermione croaked.

Riddle was being horribly distracting as she wondered frantically what to tell him. Her day had been utterly horrible due to the fact Rosalie was an awful student and Hermione had to put up with that kind of a reputation.

"I did… er…"

Hermione couldn't really finish her sentence as Riddle now carded his fingers gingerly through her hair. His other arm sneakily curled around her waist and he abruptly pulled her against him. Hermione's breath hitched as she leaned against his chest, feeling his hands wandering over her body. It made her shiver for all the wrong reasons. The room seemed to grow almost unbearably hot as Hermione felt two fingers under her chin and Riddle tilted her face up, so she had to look at him. His otherwise so cold eyes were burning with lust as they bored into her demandingly. Hermione, hypnotized by his gaze, could not look away. It was then that Riddle stooped down to her, obviously with the intention to kiss her.

"Eep," Hermione squealed and bent away from him.

Voldemort, seemingly not one to be easily discouraged, put both hands on Hermione's waist and decisively pushed her down on the bed. Hermione frowned. She hadn't even noticed how he had maneuvered them towards his bed. Joining her on the bed, Riddle pulled her tightly against him while he again allowed his hands to wander. One of them found its way to the back of Hermione's neck and held her in place while the other freely roamed her body. Riddle was so close, Hermione was distracted by how nice he smelled and she was tempted to just lean into him. Voldemort used her temporary distraction and, like a vulture, again swooped down on her. This time Hermione only managed to slightly turn her head, so instead of on her lips Riddle placed a soft kiss on her cheek. It was insulting to her how there were suddenly pleasurable shudders running up and down her body, pooling in the pit of her stomach. A soft traitorous moan left her as Riddle placed more kisses along the line of her jaw.

Meanwhile, his hands continued they exploration. Hermione could feel his fingers gingerly massaging the back of her neck, while his other hand slid down her belly, eagerly searching for the waistband of her skirt. His warm touch was electrifying and there was something greedily building up in Hermione's stomach. Riddle's soft lips continued to place demanding kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin now and then. In the heat of the moment, Hermione even caught herself as she raised a hand, intending to run it through his silky black hair. Clearly, this was getting out of hand. Before she could do something she would definitely regret later, Hermione raised both hands and forcefully pushed Riddle away.

"Eep," this time Riddle squealed in protest.

Hermione ignored him and frantically jumped up from the bed. In her panic, she hastened to the next door, trying to escape. It was only as she slammed the door shut behind her that she realized she had accidentally run into the bathroom and not the exit from the dorm.

Damn it!

Her eyes wildly darted around the room. No window, no other escape route. This was a dead-end. Hermione cursed under her breath, but quickly locked the door.

"Rosalie? What the fuck are you doing?" Riddle's slightly annoyed voice came from the other side of the door.

Shit, shit shit! What was she going to do now? Hermione anxiously wrung her hands. She jumped in fright as Riddle turned the doorknob.

"Open the door!" he snapped at her, now there was definitely anger in his voice.

Oh Merlin, she needed to get out of here. Panic rushing through her, Hermione frantically ripped at her hair. It was as tears started to spring to her eyes and she almost choked on a sob that she was hit by an idea. Quickly putting that plan into action, she began to noisily shuffle around the bathroom and ran the taps for a moment. Then she added theatrical coughs and loud choking sounds, that couldn't be overheard even from the other side of the door. To top it all off, Hermione flushed the toilet and, grinning to herself, rubbed at her eyes, so they looked bleary and puffy. Grabbing the empty waste basket, she finally opened the door. Riddle stood right in front of her, angry frown on his handsome face.

"What are you doing?" he irately thundered at her.

"Oh, Tom," Hermione groaned miserably. "I don't feel so well."

As if to emphasize that statement, she pitifully clutched the waste basket against her chest and shakily looked up at him. Riddle's blue gaze scanned her suspiciously and Hermione dramatically assured,

"I'm sure it's nothing." She bravely smiled at him. "Let's just continue. I'm good to g-"

Quickly, she stuck her head into the waste basket and faked a few gagging noises. As she was finished she glanced at Riddle, who by now eyed her with unveiled disgust.

"No... No, false alarm," Hermione told him shakily. "I'm probably fine."

Clutching the waste basket in one arm, she reached for Riddle with the other and pursed her lips, making kissing sounds.

"C'mere," she said flirtingly and ended the sentence with a strategically placed cough.

Hermione wouldn't have been able to blurt out 'hypochondriac', so fast was she thrown from Riddle's dorm.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	6. This is a Mess

Hermione woke up in the Slytherin dorm and instantly decided this day was going to be horrible. Grouchily, she peeled herself out of her bed and stood up, green dressing gown wrapped around her body.

"Morning," Betty chirped while braiding her hair.

Hermione merely grunted at her, not wanting to talk at all. The other girl seemed to be used to such behaviour and happily ignored Hermione's mood. She morosely dragged herself to the bathroom. As she entered, Hermione spotted Gamp standing in front of the mirror. Hermione blinked at her with blurry eyes and stepped over to the sink. Gamp jumped as she noticed Hermione.

"Oh," the girl stammered nervously. "I- I'm finished. Sorry. J- just go ahead."

"No," Hermione mumbled. "It's…"

Gamp hastily gathered her things, throwing apologetic looks Hermione's way and as fast as she could cleared the bathroom.

"…fine," Hermione told the now empty bathroom.

Now she felt guilty for having chased Gamp away with her obvious fear of Rosalie. Hermione sighed deeply. As it turned out, the day didn't want to get any better. The classes Hermione attended on her second day in the past were as horrible as on her first. None of the professor's expected anything from her. Obviously, merely attending some classes was in and of itself an achievement. The professors had seemingly given up on Rosalie. It was so frustrating that Hermione had to constantly keep reminding herself of Dumbledore's plan to 'blend in' as Rosalie Black.

_Don't slip up. Don't slip up_ , ran in a loop through her head as Hermione sat in her classes. During her last class of the day, Arithmancy, she was finally close to tears. Valiantly Hermione fought against the need to answer any questions or to diligently copy everything down the professor said. The Arithmancy teacher, professor Arterbury, was a tall, thin woman in her late forties and somehow reminded Hermione of McGonagall. Maybe it was the stern glint in the woman's eyes or her strict teaching method.

Hermione supposed she would have liked the woman if that look of disappointment hadn't flittered over Arterbury's face whenever her gaze came to rest on Hermione. It made the last rest of Hermione's pride die in a shrivelled up mess. Sadly, it really didn't come as a surprise as, after she concluded her lesson, Arterbury ordered,

"Ms Black, please, stay behind."

Hermione nodded numbly. "Yes, professor."

Some of the Gryffindors snickered and jeered tauntingly and Hermione started to resent the fact that she shared so many classes with them. Shamefully, she ducked her head and waited until they all left the classroom. Then she stood and listlessly shuffled over to professor Arterbury's desk. The woman looked at her, stern expression on her thin face.

"Ms Black," the teacher started cuttingly. "I am sure you remember our last talk."

"Yes, professor," Hermione lied meekly.

Of course, she couldn't remember a thing. Her cover story and the decidedly unamused look of Arterbury silenced her, though. The teacher shook her head and continued poignantly,

"Then you also remember how I warned you that you will fail this class if you do not put more effort into it."

The professor frowned at her in disappointment, seemingly thinking Rosalie was a lost cause, and Hermione died a little more inside. As she remained silent, Arterbury continued,

"To be honest, I cannot see any improvement in your performance during my class, Ms Black."

Hermione breathed in deeply, fighting against an upcoming bout of desperation. This was Rosalie Black's problem not hers. Still, she was barely able to stand the frustration on the professor's face.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, eyes cast down.

"There is no need to apologize to me," Arterbury stated tersely. "These are  _your_  grades we're talking about."

Hermione hesitantly peered at the woman. Arterbury stared at her piercingly, accusation still plain on her face. Hermione swallowed thickly.

"You have to wake up," the professor admonished. "You're in your seventh year, Ms Black. How do you expect to pass your NEWTs if you continue like this?"

Hermione worried her lower lip and whispered in a wobbly voice, "I- I don't know."

Arterbury sighed disappointedly. "I spoke with your other teachers. They all paint an equally dark picture."

Her gaze bored into Hermione and the Ex-Gryffindor just wished the ground would swallow her up. A deep blush colouring her face, Hermione felt mortified. She wished she could only open her mouth and deny everything. She wasn't a bad student.  _Never!_

"How many classes do you take?" Arterbury inquired sharply.

Dimly, Hermione was glad that Dumbledore had managed to give her the promised dossier on Rosalie. Now, she at least could answer the question.

"F- five," Hermione whispered meekly.

Arterbury shook her head, the pity in her eyes almost burning Hermione.

"Really, Ms Black," she sighed sadly. "I just don't know what to do with you anymore. You know we discussed this in a staff meeting. Aside from Herbology where Beery ranges you as an 'Acceptable', you get a failing grade in all other classes."

Hermione stared at the professor. She felt as if someone had doused her in a bucket of ice water. Her air was momentarily cut off and Hermione feared to choke on the spot.

"Tell me, Ms Black," Arterbury demanded to know, strict tinge in her voice. "What do you expect to achieve with only one NEWT?"

The disappointment and slight pity was probably the worst. Hermione shuffled uncomfortably under the professor's hard gaze, hot tears shooting to her eyes.

"I d- don't know," Hermione breathed shakily.

"We've spoken about this before… so many times," Arterbury sighed. "I don't know what else to do. I know your Head of House also spoke with you." She paused and studied Hermione in discontent. "What else do we have to do to get through to you?"

Hermione bit her lower lip hard to stop it from trembling. The only thing she could do was shrug her shoulders meekly.

"You're running out of time," the professor informed flatly. "NEWTs are coming up. If you don't start to study now, it's going to be too late."

Hermione let her head hang, shame burning through her like fire. The disappointment in Arterbury's voice cut into Hermione as she said,

"Very well, Ms Black. I really hope you start taking your education serious before it really is too late." At Hermione's silence, the professor again sighed. "You're free to go."

Hermione bobbed her head and breathed timidly, "Yes, professor."

She didn't want to look up and meet the teacher's reproachful gaze. Holding her school bag in a death grip, Hermione felt the classroom as fast as she could. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she felt sick as she stumbled down a corridor. Shakily, Hermione walked towards the Slytherin common room. The only thing she wanted to do now was curl up in her bed and die.

"Hey, Black," a mocking voice stopped Hermione.

She turned and almost groaned as she spotted a group of Gryffindors. Some of the faces were familiar, probably also seventh years.

"What?!" Hermione snapped in annoyance.

A blonde girl stepped a bit forward, scornful grin on her face. She was part of the Quidditch team, judging by the uniform she wore and the Beater's club in her hand.

"I heard Dumbledore wants to grade you down. What's it gonna be? Third years or second years?"

The other Gryffindors guffawed in laughter, casting Hermione snide looks. Hermione's magic twitched irately. She didn't know what bothered her more, the blatant scorn or her silent fear that the Gryffindor girl might be right. Instead of saying anything, Hermione just replied with a rude hand gesture. It didn't do anything to stop the mocking laughter, so she just turned around and walked away from the Gryffindors. Professor Arterbury's disappointment and the Gryffindors' scorn still swirled through Hermione's poor head as she stumbled into the Slytherin common room. She wanted nothing more than just be alone in her misery. Unfortunately, Lady Luck was not on her side this day.

Hermione blinked stupidly, taking in the situation. The common room was suspiciously empty aside from a group of people standing near the fireplace. Hermione groaned softly as she recognized them. Malfoy, Mulciber, the muscular guy whose name Hermione thought was Rosier and, of course, Tom Riddle himself. A malicious smirk distorted Riddle's handsome face as he gazed down at another figure. The boy knelt on the floor, forcibly held down by Mulciber and Rosier, and Hermione could see that he trembled as he fearfully glanced up at Riddle.

Upon her entry, the Slytherins looked at her. Riddle even inclined his head in greeting, never dropping that frightening smirk. Then he refocused his attention on the boy. Hermione didn't know his name but had seen him among other fifth years. His short brown hair was dishevelled and a look of terror twisted his features. Tears glinted in his eyes as he pleadingly looked up at Riddle.

"I s- swear I didn't know," the boy sobbed. " _Please_. I- I would have nev-"

"Shut up," Malfoy hissed threateningly.

Panic swam in the boy's eyes as he looked up at the older Slytherin. Voice thick with tears, he whispered,

"I- I didn't know. I didn't know." He turned to Riddle beseechingly. "Y- you have to stop them.  _Please_."

Hermione still stood stock-still, observing the display with disgust mounting up in her. Riddle, of course, was not at all disturbed by the boy's desperate pleas.

"I'm sorry, Corner. Slytherins don't like blood traitors very much," he said, fake pity wrapped around his voice. "There's nothing I can do."

It was a lie. Hermione knew that and the cold gleam in Riddle's eyes said so as well. He was the one orchestrating the whole thing. The boy, Corner, sobbed at Riddle's cruel words. Riddle's minions, on the other hand, grinned nastily. In growing trepidation, Hermione watched Mulciber holding Corner in place while Rosier grabbed his hand. Cruelly, Rosier forced the hand towards the crackling fire in the fireplace. Corner yelped in fear and pain while Riddle watched the whole thing with sadistic amusement lurking in his blue eyes.

Hermione was ripped from her stupor as Corner's hand was threateningly closer to the flames, the heat already reddening the skin. Automatically, she pulled her wand. Hermione was halfway to the wand movements of a very powerful spell as her cover story of 'Rosalie' shot through her mind. Riddle mustn't know about her true identity. Time would spin out of control if he ever learned the truth. Hermione worried her lip, wincing at Corner's cries of pain. Determinedly, she shook her head. This was just wrong. She wouldn't allow this. Angry glint in her eyes, Hermione raised her wand and whirled it through the air, opting for another spell.

_Spiritus Mus_ , she yelled the incantation in her mind.

No visible spell left her wand, but there could be heard a series of soft pops in the common room. Out of thin air everywhere around Hermione, little tan field mice sprang into existence. Disturbed by their sudden appearance, the mice squeaked loudly and scurried about, trying to find a place to hide. The number of mice grew exponentially as more and more of them materialised from a seemingly infinite supply of rodents.

Not long and they resembled a furry wave more than individual mice. Hermione could feel their small little bodies pressing themselves around her feet and watched contently as her mouse army poured towards the Slytherins by the fireplace. A fat grin appeared on her face as she saw Rosier and Mulciber recoil in disgust. Luckily, they released the poor fifth year. Corner used the commotion, squirmed away and dashed towards the dorms and safety.

"Yeeeeep!" Malfoy shrieked loudly and jumped up and down as the mice ran between his feet.

Rosier even climbed on a chair to evade the tidal wave of mice. Happily, Hermione watched the Slytherins waving their arms hectically. Only Riddle didn't seem to have lost his cool. Although there was a dark look on his face and a dangerous glint in his eyes, Hermione couldn't help but giggle as she scanned him. She had no idea how, but one of the mice had managed to climb up his body. With its tiny claws it clung to Riddle's green and silver tie and dangled from it. It was in a bizarre way almost adorable.

Still glaring at her murderously, Riddle snapped his wand angrily through the air. Instantly, the mice vanished into thin air. Hermione was a bit sad to see them go. Riddle seemed to be of a different opinion. Irately, he hissed at her,

"Rosalie!  _What_  are you doing?"

"Er…" Hermione innocently blinked at him, searching for a way out. "Erm… Whoopsie doodle. That was a tad over-enthusiastic. Sorry, my mistake."

Furiously, Riddle stamped over to her. Hermione shuffled uncomfortable as he towered over her, murderous look on his face. Nervously, she fiddled with her wand, trying to avoid his smouldering eyes. Then she cleared her throat and proclaimed guilelessly,

"I  _really_  don't know what happened." She frowned at her wand and shook it, before she told Riddle, "Must be the wand. Really rebellious sometimes…"

Riddle simply drowned her in a lethal glare. Then he raised his wand at Hermione and suddenly fear rushed through her.

"I swear, Rosalie," Riddle snarled at her menacingly. "You're going to-"

"Er… sorry…" Hermione breathed, panic creeping up on her. "Gotta go. Let's talk later."

With that she just turned around and ran away from Riddle, racing from the common room. Maybe her flight was a bit cowardly, but she really didn't care.

~.~.~

Somehow her feet had led her to Dumbledore's office. As Hermione didn't think returning to the Slytherin common room would be wise for a few hours, she decided to pay her transfiguration teacher a visit. Still feeling a bit jittery from her encounter with Riddle. Hermione cautiously knocked at the door. Dumbledore greeted her with a smile from behind his large desk as she entered.

"Ms Granger," he said and Hermione teared up a bit at hearing her real name. "It is nice to see you."

"Hello, professor," Hermione mumbled.

"Have a seat, please." Dumbledore gestured at the chair in front of his desk.

Gratefully Hermione plopped down, eyes shortly skimming over the paper work strewn around Dumbledore's desk. It seemed the professor had been immersed in marking their latest transfiguration essays. Hermione groaned pitifully. At Dumbledore's cocked eyebrow, she said faintly,

"I'm sorry about my essay. I thought I'd best stick to Rosalie's standard of work as not to attract any attention."

A feeling of being filthy crawled over Hermione as she eyed the essays in trepidation. She felt horribly embarrassed by having been forced to emulate Rosalie's more than questionable research and writing skills.

"Not to worry," Dumbledore soothed in his kind voice.

Hermione grimaced at him and supplied, "I think it's best you don't read it and just put a T on it."

Amusement flickered over the professor's face. "That bad?"

Hermione sighed deeply and sagged against the backrest of her chair. "Worse."

A smile wrinkled up Dumbledore's face even more as he inquired, "I am sure you are not here to discuss your quite admirable ability to blend in. How can I help you?"

Feeling a bit better hearing the compliment, Hermione glanced at the professor. She couldn't quite hide the desperate lilt to her voice as she asked,

"Did you find any leads of how I can return home?"

Dumbledore continued to gaze at her with his piercing eyes, not at all surprised by her question.

"I have some ideas and theories, but no substantial strategy yet on how to reverse the magic that has pulled you into the past," the professor told her calmly. "Time travel is a very convoluted topic and your case is quite unique. The magicks at work to provoke contortions in time are always in a state of flux and very difficult to pinpoint." Seeing how Hermione's face fell at his words, Dumbledore ended encouragingly, "It will take time, I'm afraid, Hermione, but it is not impossible."

Hermione swallowed thickly, hoping that he was right and her condition was not permanent. She tried to smile at him and said,

"I'm very grateful you're helping me, professor."

"Do not worry yourself. It is my pleasure. I will try my best to find a solution for your problem." A twinkle appeared in his eyes as he added, "To be honest, your case is quite exciting."

Hermione couldn't help but grin at the almost sheepish look on Dumbledore's face and commented dryly, "Well, at least one of us gets something out of this mess."

"Indeed," Dumbledore chuckled amusedly. Cocking an eyebrow, he inquired, "Time travel aside, how is it going on the Tom Riddle front? You seemed to be rather averse to being in his presence."

A long tired sigh tore from Hermione's lips. "Sir, that boy is even more horrible than I expected."

Hermione narrowed her eyes angrily as she spotted something akin to a grin traitorously tugging at Dumbledore's mouth.

"This is not funny," she told him exasperatedly.

"Forgive me, Hermione," might Dumbledore say, but the smile on his face said something else.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, but then gave up and complained, "He drives me up the walls, he does. I swear, sooner or later I'm going to curse him."

The professor chuckled blithefully, "Maybe that would do him some good."

Hermione shook her head at Dumbledore's irresponsibility. "Sadly, I can't do that, now, can I? It would blow my cover. To say nothing of the time line I would completely disrupt."

The professor nodded, before he mused pensively, "Did you ever think that maybe you're here for a reason?" At her questioningly raised eyebrows he continued, "If Tom Riddle remains to be on the path that I have long suspected he is already on, I have an inkling as to what he might become in your time period."

Hermione scrunched up her nose in distaste. "And you probably would be right, too."

"Exactly my point," Dumbledore said smilingly. "Now that you're here – someone who knows first-hand how Tom's life will pan out – you might be able to change his path."

Hermione pursed her lips in contemplation as she pondered that line of thought. Indeed, what if Voldemort never came to be? Hermione tapped her index finger against her lips. After a stretch of silence, she decided,

"Yeah... No. I'm not gonna do that." Hermione sighed as the happy twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed a little. "Look, I think it's a good idea  _in theory_. But, you see, Tom's a right attention whore and I'm not gonna give him any more of that than he already gets."

"You might change him for the better," Dumbledore pointed out.

"Yes, maybe," Hermione admitted. "Or I make him worse. Or something in between. Who knows? It's really not my responsibility. Riddle's his own person. And if he decides to fuck up his whole life, so be it."

She emphasised her statement with a casual shrug of her shoulders. Then she suggested, voice deadpan, "I could, of course, just go and kill him if you insist."

Dumbledore just cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. Hermione sighed loudly. "Don't worry, I wasn't serious. I'm not going to turn into an insane murderer. After all, I hear there's a limit of one per school and we already have Tom. But I'm also not gonna appeal to his better nature. I'm certainly not going to touch that issue."

Dumbledore still looked a bit disappointed, but in the end conceded, "Very well, Hermione. It  _is_  probably better not to tempt fate and change time. Let's just concentrate on bringing you back into your time period."

Hermione nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

For a moment the professor scanned the harassed look on her face, concern appearing on his wizened face, then he asked kindly, "Can I interest you in a cup of tea?"

Hermione raised her gaze at him and smiled tiredly. "That would be really nice, sir."

Dumbledore returned her smile before he casually waved his wand. Immediately, a steaming pot of tea and two cups appeared out of nowhere.

"Earl Grey," Dumbledore informed her happily. "First Flush."

Hermione felt her tension uncoil bit by bit. She reached for her cup and held it out so Dumbledore could pour her some tea.

"Thank you," she said, appreciatively sipping her tea.

Still smiling amicably, Dumbledore contently savoured the tea.

"Now, Hermione," he said kindly. "You said you are Muggleborn. Tell me, how much do you know about traditional knitting patterns?"

~.~.~

Hermione felt a lot more relaxed as she finally dared to wander back to the Slytherin common room. Cautiously, she peered inside the room. There was no trace of any mice left, just a few Slytherins lounged here and there on the sofas. Silently, Hermione stole into the room and looked around. A relieved breath left her lungs as she couldn't spot Riddle or his lackeys anywhere.

Feeling a lot more confident now, she strolled further into the room and gravitated towards one of the comfy sofas. With a content sigh, Hermione plopped down, pulled a book from her bag and began to read. She could feel the confused eyes of the other Slytherins on her, but ignored it. Maybe Rosalie Black wasn't a book fan, but it would not bust her cover when she read one measly book, would it? Hermione for one was too tired to care.

Happily, she disappeared into a better world as she lost herself in her book. She was really glad Riddle and his snakes had left to do… well, whatever snakes did the whole day.  _Basking on a sun warmed stone?_ Hermione for one didn't care much and was quite content with the graveyard-like silence in the Slytherin common room.

Hermione must have been lost in her book for quite some time. Slowly, the common room had filled and people chatted irritatingly. It wasn't long and someone was so insolent as to sit right beside her on the couch, disturbing her reading flow. Annoyed, Hermione turned her head. She cringed as she found Tom Riddle sitting beside her. Irritated expression on his face, he had one arm elegantly draped over the backrest of the couch and looked at her disapprovingly. Hermione noticed how the whole common room surreptitiously watched their snake prince. It was no wonder that boy had such an inflated ego, Hermione reasoned. After all Riddle got treated like some sort of God. If they could, they would probably kiss the ground he walked on.  _And they probably do_ , Hermione suspiciously glanced at the other Slytherins. A disgusted shiver ran down her spine as an image of a Death Eater kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes popped up in her mind.

Without any preamble or fond words for his beloved girlfriend, Riddle said in his silky voice, "Don't you have something to say to me?"

Flabbergasted Hermione stared up at him. Riddle just raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Er… no?" Hermione replied confused.

She could see the anger taking hold of him as he heard her reply. Even his magic reacted and crackled irately in the air. Riddle leaned down to her and hissed into her ear,

"I think you should apologize, Rosalie. For your embarrassing performance earlier."

Oh, that was the problem. Hermione almost rolled her eyes at him. Yes, she was  _so_  very sorry that she had messed up one of Lord Voldemort's dastardly schemes.  _Surely_ , she would lose all her sleep over it.

"I'm sorry for that, Tom. My bad," she said, admittedly rather flippantly, but it still was an apology.

The furious look on Riddle's face told her he thought differently. He leaned down to her and harshly whispered into her ear, "Stop being so bitchy. It's rather tiring."

Hermione tried to ignore the anger burning up in her, but if that git continued like this, she was going to rip his head off. Hermione was pretty sure Dumbledore would not blame her at all. Maybe she would even get a medal or something like that. For ridding the world of the evil git.

"I see," Hermione observed coldly. "If you excuse me, now."

With a snap, she closed her book. Then she got up from the sofa and stalked over to the stairs leading down to the dorms. She  _certainly_  was not going to waste her precious time talking with an insane murderer. Nodding at that thought, Hermione descended the stairs, down to her dorm. The dorm was abandoned and as she just walked over to her bed. Hermione heard someone else entering after her. It wasn't like she needed three guesses to know who that someone was, so Hermione did not turn around to check but calmly sat on her bed.

Scowl still in place, Riddle stood by the door and glared at her. After the previous proceedings, Hermione was not at all in the mood to indulge his volatile temper, so she didn't react to him at all.

"I am rather displeased by your conduct lately," Riddle informed her glacially.

His stilted wording made Hermione's lips curl. She turned around to him and scanned the clearly angry Slytherin with morbid interest.

"You are 'displeased by my conduct'?" she echoed, dry humour winding its way into her voice.

She put her book down on her bedside table and suggested innocently, "Well then, maybe you should go and take your displeasure elsewhere. Obviously, I am not very conducive to your temper."

Riddle took a few steps further into the room. His movement made Hermione's fingers itch with the urge to pull her wand.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Rosalie?" the wizard snapped at her.

Hermione watched him for a moment, studying the rage storming behind his otherwise composed expression. Then she simply shrugged. Riddle's jaw was clenched as if fighting for composure.

"You really don't want to make me angry," he pressed out through gritted teeth.

He was probably right, Hermione reasoned calmly as she felt his angry magic tugging at her. Riddle, seeing the passive look on her face, narrowed his eyes.

"I won't accept your ridiculous behaviour," the wizard hissed caustically. "You owe me a lot more respect than you show lately."

Hermione couldn't help but arch her eyebrows. "I owe you respect?"

"You know who I am," Riddle told her, glaring at her. "I am a direct descendant of Slytherin himself.  _All_  of you owe me respect."

Hermione considered him pensively. This was new information. She really hadn't expected Riddle to tell anyone about his parentage. Not after the so-called Heir of Slytherin had killed Myrtle.

"Of course you're right," Hermione said, banning all traces of sarcasm from her tone. "After all, nothing commands more respect than pure blood. I should know." She threw Riddle a fake smile. " _Toujours pur_. The motto of my family."

As if needing to defend himself, Riddle growled menacingly. "My blood is the purest in this whole school. Both sides of my family have not been besmirched by Muggle blood in centuries."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that blatant lie and commented dryly, "Is that right?"

Riddle balled his hands into fists and glowered at her darkly. "You know it is."

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck and threw Riddle a sheepish look. Nothing but innocence glinted in her eyes as she said,

"Of course, I know that. Who would  _ever_  doubt that you're a Pureblood, Tom? After all, it's so obvious that  _both_  your parents were Purebloods. I mean, how else would you be such an  _incredibly_  powerful wizard."

Riddle seemed mollified by her assurances, although a tiny residue of anger continued to smoulder in his eyes. Hermione tried, but she somehow couldn't stop there. Giggling softly, she continued,

"Imagine that, Tom Riddle  _not_  a Pureblood. Why, even the notion is ridiculous." She shook her head, smiling sweetly at Riddle. "A Mudblood or even a  _Halfblood_  would never be able to do the things you can do, Tom. Someone with impure blood could never have such command over magic."

She paused there, blinking up at Riddle with nothing but honesty mirrored on her face. Then she said guilelessly,

"Halfbloods… They're hardly better than Mudbloods. Wouldn't you agree, Tom?"

Hermione knew she really shouldn't goad him, but she couldn't help it. She got a perverse sense of pleasure out of watching the emotions flitter over Riddle's face. He somehow managed to plaster a stony mask on his face, but there were cracks. His left eye, for example, twitched a little and a small, almost imperceptible, crinkle appeared between his eyebrows. Hermione tried to not let her innocent smile morph into a nasty smirk.

"Yes. That is very much true," Riddle replied, voice steady and controlled.

If Hermione hadn't known what to pay attention to, she would have missed that his tone was a bit forced, the words pressed out, bitter even. Her smile widened a little bit.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	7. Mortal Kombat

Potions, Hermione found out, was by far her least favourite class of the past. And that was saying something. Why was it so terrible? Because she had to share a workstation with the Dark Lord, of all things. Annoyance was wrapped tightly around her as Hermione peered at Riddle. Currently, he was cutting the foxglove for their potion. It was horrible. Why did she have to work with  _him_. Hermione suspected that Rosalie just didn't want to do any work and let Riddle handle everything. Oh, she really started to dislike the girl.

Temper flaring, Hermione cut the fungi into small strips. After a few days of classes in Rosalie's body, Hermione was already completely stressed out. The girl barely scraped by, her grades were a nightmare and the worst part was that Hermione had to play along. If she suddenly was good at her classes, people would suspect that something was off. Hermione knew she couldn't risk that, but the situation was still unbearable. Even now she was forced to  _deliberately_  spoil her own potion. Everything screamed at her to stop as, with shaky fingers, Hermione took the fungi and added them to the cauldron. Feeling sickened by herself, she reached for the ladle to stir the potion.

"Merlin! Rosalie, how can you be so stupid?" Riddle sneered meanly and gestured at the potion. "Did you even try to read the instructions?"

Hermione startled before she peered at Riddle's angry face. Just looking at him made her frustration boil up to knew propotions. Vile glint in his eyes, the Slytherin scanned her with an air of condescension.

"I'm sorry, Tom," Hermione admitted, fighting for calm. "I seem to have used the wrong species of amanita." She gestured to the cut mushrooms. "These are death caps, but we needed destroying angels, didn't we? It's hard to discern them when they are so young. And I re-"

"I don't need your excuses," Riddle cut over her harshly. "It's your fault this potion's ruined now."

Hermione felt her anger giving a violent twitch as she looked at the disdainful look on Riddle's face. Deliberate or not, this still was a minor mistake. There certainly was no reason to snub at her like that. Stewing in her anger, Hermione couldn't quite hold her temper back.

"I said I was sorry," she pressed out through gritted teeth. "It was my mistake. But the potion is hardly ruined. We'll just add a little more doxy eggs. It'll neutralise the toxin and tha-"

"We don't do anything," Riddle again interrupted her, his voice cold as ice. " _I_  will take over from here."

Hermione was outraged as he then rudely pushed her away from the cauldron.

"You can stand there and look pretty," he told her derisively. Then he threw her a dirty glance and added, "Though with how unsightly you've become, you'll fail that, too." An evil smile curled his lips. "You should be thanking me on bended knees that I spend time with you. If you continue like this, I'll leave you."

Hermione stared at Riddle's arrogant face and felt the last reast of her temper slip away. Well, to be honest, it had only been a matter of time. All considered, she wasn't even a good actress. The only reason Riddle hadn't yet sussed her out was that her story was too farfetched.

Sometimes words fail, Hermione had to admit. So she didn't reply anything to Riddle's arrogant rant. Instead she just kicked him in the shin. Hard. Riddle gasped in a mixture of pain and disbelief as he was hit in the leg.

"What the  _fuck_?!"

Paying his crouched figure no more attention, Hermione turned to the working place and coolly started to count the required dozen doxy eggs. She just plopped the fifth egg into the bowl as she felt a gruff hand on her shoulder.

Not that she was surprised.

Riddle angrily turned her around so she had to face him. After this whole grabbing, wrenching and kicking business Hermione started to wonder whether Slughorn endorsed violence in his classroom or had just fallen asleep. It didn't matter anyway, because right now Hermione was confronted with a pair of very angry blue eyes.

"What did you do that for?" Riddle hissed at her furiously.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

She gritted her teeth as Riddle's hand on her shoulder tightened its grip painfully. What a nasty person.  _And abusive too?!_  she thought outraged, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had just now kicked him.

"You  _kicked_  me!" Riddle reminded her in a strained voice, obviously having trouble not to yell in her face.

The scandal on his face made Hermione have to hold in laughter. Instead she deadpanned in a calm voice,

"Well, you can hardly blame me. You scared me with all your threats."

Hermione almost rolled her eyes as Riddle looked at her with the air of the wrongly accused. Finally he caught himself and breathed out, his voice barely controlled,

"I did  _not_  threaten you."

She couldn't help it as the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. What a hypocrite. Sure he really hadn't threatened her  _right now_. But to Hermione his mere presence was threat enough. At least this whole thing had calmed her incensed temper down.  _Time to act_ , she decided and charmed an anxious expression on her face.

"Oh but,  _Tom_ ," Hermione whined obnoxiously. "You said you would  _leave_  me. You  _know_  I can't express myself so well with words. I did the only thing I could think of."

Riddle just stared at her, seemingly lost for words. Hermione was surprised herself as she even managed to force a few tears into her eyes. She took a step towards him, looked at him through teary eyes and grabbed his hand.

"You are not going to leave me, are you?" she asked, false trepidation in her voice.

After this, Hermione would be surprised if he didn't dump her.

~.~.~

Sadly, after that stunt during potions Riddle did not immediately break up with her, but Hermione still felt very satisfied with herself after the class. Not even the disappointed looks her professor threw her way during charms could pull her down. She passed the time by remembering that look of helpless outrage on Riddle's face as she kicked him. There still was a fat smile on her face as she walked into the Great Hall for lunch.

"What's got you into such a good mood?" Sarah asked her as Hermione sat down beside her.

Still grinning like an idiot, Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "It just is a nice day."

Sarah simply scrunched up her nose at Hermione's seemingly unsolicited happiness. Betty on the other hand just nodded amicably along. Hermione cheerfully loaded her plate with pork chops and potatoes and risked a glance at Riddle. The Slytherin sat a bit away from Hermione. He didn't look at her, but she couldn't help but giggle as she saw him. Thunderous scowl on his face, he did not look very relaxed, now, did he? Maybe potions wasn't her least favourite class after all.

Hermione still dug into her meal as the owls burst into the Great Hall, delivering the mail. She watched in confusion as a rather impressive looking screech owl headed directly for her. The bird gracefully touched down on the table, deftly avoiding Hermione's cup of pumpkin juice. It fixed her with a gaze from its spooky yellow eyes and cawed once as if in greeting. Then it raised its claw, offering Hermione the small roll of paper it was carrying. Not seeing any way out of this she reached for the roll and untangled it from the bird's leg. Instantly, the owl took off again, its large wings quickly propelling it high up in the air. Meanwhile, Hermione stared at the roll of paper in her hand. There was unmistakably the crest of the house of Black visible on the red seal.

"Oh boy," Betty said wryly as she eyed the letter in Hermione's hand. "Good luck with that."

Hermione didn't know what that meant, but the look of sympathy on Betty's face was unsettling. Even Sarah scanned the letter with something akin to pity on her doll-like face. Rather reluctantly, Hermione broke the seal and unrolled the letter.

_Dear Daughter,_

_Horace Slughorn has brought to my attention that you are having trouble competing with your peers. With utmost obtrusiveness that man has set forth his concerns for your classwork and the upcoming NEWT examination. Your failure to excel at your educational training has become a tedious matter and I do not appreciate your tendency to redirect your professors' complaints to your father and me. I have told you on numerous occasions that I do not care for such disturbances. To advertise your shortcomings in such a public way is nothing less than shameful. I expect you to at least have the decency to keep your inadequacy under wraps and not accost your family with such trifling matters._

_Is it not enough that I had to pester Aunt Lycoris on your account? You are very lucky she is such a well-connected woman. How fortunate that she should know most of this year's NEWT examiners from her Snidget-hunting club. I warn you again, though, that Hesper Winogrand is a very stubborn woman. There is no way to convince her. So, I do hope for your sake that you are able to pass at least one NEWT on your own. Herbology is a rather simple subject anyway and I will not stand for any failure on your part._

_On a different note, your father and I decided to spend the upcoming Christmas holidays in our estate in Provence. Therefore, your visit during the holidays would be inconvenient and I would ask you to spend the time elsewhere._

_Your mother_

_Melania Black_

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Hermione folded the letter and put it in her pocket. She didn't quite know what to think about this. An angry and rather persistent voice in her head cried in outrage,  _Cheating!_  Hermione could not say she was surprised by this development.  _Of course_ , Rosalie would use foul play to pass her NEWTs. Feeling thoroughly disgusted, Hermione grabbed her fork and knife and started to furiously cut her pork chops into tiny pieces.

"That good, hm?" Betty commented dryly as she observed Hermione's angry slicing.

Hermione just growled in response and continued to shred her meal. ' _Keep your inadequacy under wraps,'_ Melania Black's words spun through her head, making Hermione sigh. The words weren't directed at her and yet... a tiny bit of pity weaved through Hermione's anger. There was not much about Rosalie's life she could identify with and even less that she liked, but whatever she might think of Rosalie the letter from her mother made Hermione truly pity the girl. Maybe Rosalie wasn't the sharpest knife in the box, but it didn't justify such vitriol from her own mother.

Sarah, not caring about Hermione's conflicting emotions, asked calmly, "So, what news from the home front?"

Hermione peered at the girl and took a sad guess, "The usual."

Betty scrunched up her face and eyed Hermione pityingly. "'s a shame."

Sarah was seemingly not that much concerned about Hermione's home life and continued casually, "Are you planning to go home for the Christmas holidays?"

"Nah," Hermione replied. "Apparently the family's going to Provence. So, I guess I'm stuck here."

There was a strangely out of place scowl on Sarah's face as she heard the answer. Hermione's confusion even grew as Betty started to giggle.

"What?"

Betty shook her head and teased, "You know what."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "No, I don't actually."

Sarah rolled her eyes in exasperation and said, sounding quite irritated, "Don't play coy. For weeks you've been telling us how much you wanted to stay at Hogwarts this year."

It did not explain anything to Hermione. "Did I?"

"Of course you did," Betty affirmed, still grinning widely. "After all, Tom never goes home for the winter holidays either. You can spend a very romantic Christmas with him. Aw, Rosalie, your plans always work out for you, don't they?"

Hermione couldn't help it, she sighed loudly. At Betty's confused look, she quickly tried to remedy, banning all sarcasm strictly from her tone,

"Yes, I'm such a lucky girl, aren't I?"

~.~.~

That letter from Rosalie's mother continued to spook around Hermione's head. Sulking a bit, she had chosen to wander to her personal safe haven, the library. Being Rosalie Black, it seemed Hermione didn't even have to open one book to pass her NEWTs. Once again indignation and fury seethed in the pit of Hermione's stomach. This whole time travel-body swap occurrence was getting worse every day. She really hoped Dumbledore would be able to send her back into her time period soon. She couldn't waste any more time. Harry and Ron needed her. It was Hermione's task to destroy the Horcrux in Nagini. This was essential to their plan. They needed to get rid of all Horcruxes, so Harry could fulfil the prophecy and kill Voldemort. What if they failed, because she was stuck in the past? Hermione gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the fear clenching around her chest. She had to trust in Dumbledore. He would get her back.

Breathing in deeply, Hermione bent over her Arithmancy essay for professor Arterbury. As she worked on finding the derivatives to the runic functions, her upset mind calmed down a bit. For some time Hermione fiddled around with the runes. Working on the differentiation was quite relaxing.

It was half an hour later that Hermione stared down at her parchment, scribbled over with runes and numbers. Such a nice work. Sadly, she could never hand this in, Hermione realized with a twinge of sadness. Professor Arterbury would probably have a heart attack if Rosalie Black suddenly handed in her homework. Hermione worried her lip as she looked down at her parchment. The runic functions and their derivatives were quite beautiful. Her heart bled as she reluctantly raised her wand and waved it over the parchment. With tears in her eyes, Hermione watched as the ink slowly faded from the parchment until there was no trace left of the runes and numbers. It made her feel slightly sick. Listlessly, Hermione held her quill in numb fingers. Now what? Should she try and mutilate the runic functions until they were barely recognizable, devoid of any logic, and give that mess to Arterbury? Or should she just completely ignore the Arithmancy professor's homework?

Hermione still struggled with that horrible decision as someone rudely pulled her parchment away from her. She looked up, frown in place, and was not at all surprised to see Riddle standing beside her chair. He seemed to be in a better mood since potions. At least, he wasn't throwing her any death glares, but scanned her through cold, indifferent eyes.

"Rosalie, what are you trying to do here?" the Slytherin inquired as he sneered down at her parchment with the runic problems.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and her hand tightened around her quill. "My homework," she hissed through gritted teeth.

To her displeasure, Riddle elegantly sank down in the seat beside her. Draping one arm over the backrest of Hermione's chair, he drawled at her,

"Don't you think that is a waste of time?"

Deep frown in place, Hermione turned her head at him. He scanned her with dark amusement shining in his eyes. Once again she was infuriated with how good he looked. A strand of his dark hair fell casually into his eyes and a small smirk curled up his mouth. He was handsome all right. Hermione wished she could curse that smirk off his face.

"So you think homework is a waste of time?" she snapped at him.

"No, silly," he chuckled.

Riddle leaned towards her and ran his fingers gently over her cheek. Hermione shuddered as he touched her. There was a pleasant tingle all over her body. The fact that he smelled so good wasn't helping the matter either. Hermione felt disgusted by her body's reactions ...maybe she could blame that on Rosalie, too.

"I just meant that  _you_  doing homework is a waste of time," Riddle purred at her in his deep voice.

Immediately, Hermione's eyes narrowed into slits. Temporarily, she forgot that he was actually insulting Rosalie Black and not herself.

"Are you insinuating that I am stupid?" she inquired bitingly.

Riddle arched an eyebrow in mock-surprise. Then he smiled at her charmingly and said, "Merlin, no. I just thought your time could be better spent elsewhere..." He threw her suggestive look. "I'm free right now. Can't you think of anything we could do together?"

Hermione was so unbalanced by his advances, she couldn't reply anything. Riddle smirked down at her, looking a bit smug in face of her speechlessness. He bent down and placed a light kiss on her cheek. Hermione truly hated herself as she shuddered in pleasure at his touch. She even closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his soft lips on her skin. As he released her again, she was convinced that he had thrown a temporary confusion charm on her. That fluttery feeling in her stomach couldn't be explained otherwise. She shook her head.

"I really need to work on my essay," Hermione decided curtly, hoping to block any further flirtatious approaches. "I don't have time right now. Sorry."

Immediately, a look of irritation crossed Riddle's face. Obviously, he was rather displeased with her continued rejection. He leaned away from her again, nasty expression on his face as he glared at her. Then Riddle raised a hand, reached out for Hermione and prodded her hair with his index finger. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he asked,

"What is that supposed to be?"

Hermione frowned and reached for her hair. It was still up in that messy bun so it wouldn't fall into her face while she worked on her essay. She looked up at Riddle questioningly.

"Why? What's wrong?"

He glared at her impatiently. "Well, you look like an idiot with that bird's nest on your head." Then he ordered sharply, "Change that."

Hermione stared at him, aghast. Riddle was unmoved by her reaction and got up from his seat. He threw her another dismissive look.

"I don't want you to look like an ugly troll. After all, you are supposed to be  _my_  girlfriend."

Without waiting for any reply, Riddle turned around and walked away. Hermione watched his retreating back and was unable to hold her fury in. She reached for the nearest object, a thick Arithmancy tome, and before she could stop herself threw it at Riddle. He yelped satisfyingly as the book hit him in the back. Riddle turned around, his fury displayed all over his face, and stomped back to her. Hermione fought to hold in her grin.

"Did you just throw a  _book_  at me?" Riddle spat at her, dangerous edge in his voice.

"Yes," replied Hermione coolly.

She could see how he balled his hands into fists as he fumed down at her. Hermione pasted an innocent expression on her face and flirted,

"You are always so nice to me, Tom. Helping me out with my appearance. I am  _so_  grateful." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I thought I need to repay you."

"Hence you throw things at me?" he blustered at her enraged.

Hermione nodded and said, sounding quite naïve, "Well, you like books so much, don't you?" Suppressing a mad laugh, Hermione stared up at him with wide eyes. Glancing at the Arithmancy book in his hand she added, "That book wasn't much use to me, see. So I thought you might want to have it."

He gritted his teeth, still glaring at her as he repeated, "So you threw it at me?"

Hermione smiled at him sweetly and, as she was feeling a bit reckless, even dared to run a hand over his forearm. "It's the least I could do."

It was very hard to hold in her laughter as she looked up at Riddle. Hermione was immensely glad that since that potions class she had finally found an outlet for her pent up anger.

Shortly, there was suspicion burning up in Riddle's blue eyes as they wandered over her. But then he shook his head and seemed to dismiss his thought. Without saying anymore he turned around and stalked away. Still with the Arithmancy book tugged under his arm, Hermione noted amusedly.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	8. Prince Charming

All in all, Hermione had to say the forties were not really what she would have expected. Before her impromptu time travel, if someone had asked her about the forties, Hermione would have probably mentioned the shadow of war time looming over the time period. Still, she would have also talked about seemly young ladies in petticoats and flowery dresses and polite gentlemen sporting neat haircuts and refined manners. The forties were supposed to be prim and proper, weren't they?

"D'you wanna drink more?" Betty slurred into Hermione's ear, spilling Firewhiskey from the bottle as she tried to feed it to Hermione.

"No," Hermione said, awkwardly pushing the bottle away from her. "I'm good."

"Aww," Betty protested. "Trust me. You need more."

_Yeah… prim and proper_ , Hermione thought sardonically as her gaze wandered over Betty's glassy eyes and then the Slytherin common room in a whole. It was chaos.  _Loud_  chaos. Some guys from the Quidditch team had smuggled alcohol into the castle from Merlin knew were, everybody had cigarettes in their hands so that the common room was filled with smoke, making Hermione cough, loud music blared from an old radio and drunk people lay in the corners, sleeping or simply unconscious. This was worse than the parties Fred and George had arranged after Gryffindor won a Quidditch Cup.

The worst was that Hermione couldn't just flee to the library. Apparently Rosalie Black was a little party animal. To keep her persona and not draw any attention to her true identity, Hermione had to play along. So, she uncomfortably sat on one of the leather sofas, at least trying to look somewhat cool, with a drunk Betty on one side and her other roommate, Sarah, on the other.

"You know," Sarah drawled, her beautifully painted lips curving into a cold smile. "I think I should go and snog Malfoy. He looks good enough to eat."

Betty giggled at that, taking a careful sip from her whiskey. Hermione followed Sarah's line of sight and stared at Abraxas Malfoy. Indifferently, she shrugged her shoulders and replied,

"You do that."

She watched Malfoy pulling a blonde girl over the makeshift dance floor. Hermione didn't remember the girl's name but thought she was a sixth year. Sarah was right, though. Abraxas was indeed quite handsome with his aristocratic features and tall built. Then again the arrogant air hovering around him and the snooty look on his face made Hermione want to throw a Bat Boogey Hex at him rather than snog the bloke. Well, to each their own, she supposed. After all, Sarah did sport the same kind of arrogance. The girl in question took a lazy drag from her cigarette while she observed Malfoy like a hawk, pondering expression on her pretty face.

"Say, Betty," Sarah asked. "Are you going to Wales over the Christmas break?"

Betty looked up from her glass. "Hm? Wales? No. Granny sold the estate."

Sarah raised one delicate eyebrow. "Really? What a shame. I should have liked to visit this year."

Betty shrugged carelessly and slurred, obviously in a conversational mood, "Tell me about it. We always spent Christmas there and I  _did_ love the west wing. Sometimes no-one would bother me for days... well aside from the maids, but they don't count, do they?"

"Why was it sold, then?" Sarah inquired.

"Apparently, the Malfoys sold their estate first," Betty explained, gesticulating with her glass. "Some newly rich Londoner bought it. _Halfblood_ , you know. Grandmother would not set food in our estate anymore. Not with such people as neighbours."

With that Sarah seemed to lose all interest in the topic and lit herself another cigarette. Meanwhile Hermione wondered how Sarah and Betty would react if she told them they were sitting here not with a Halfblood but a Muggleborn even.  _The horror_. Hermione sighed inwardly. She really did not belong in Slytherin. The whole Pureblood mania was making her feel itchy. If only she could curse some sense into the Slytherins.

Now that she thought on Pureblood supremacists… Riddle was suspiciously absent today. Hermione scanned the party for the Slytherin Head Boy, but he was nowhere to be seen. Not that Hermione minded. No, she was glad whenever Riddle left her alone. She didn't even want to know what the git was up to at the moment.

_Probably out there, torturing some fluffy unicorns_. Hermione scrunched up her face in distaste.  _Wouldn't be the first time._ Merlin, she really needed to talk with Dumbledore again. There was no way she could stay here much longer.

"Rosalie?" a male voice interrupted her musings.

Hermione looked up and found Mulciber standing by her sofa with a sly grin playing around his lips while his gaze raked over her. Hermione almost groaned. She really felt no need to have any further conversations with future Death Eaters.

"Yes?" she forced out.

The Slytherin ran a hand through his short, flaxen hair. "Wanna dance?"

He quirked his eyebrows at her while the smirk on his face widened. Hermione furrowed her brow at him. He was quite forward. Didn't he know that she was supposed to be his  _master's_  girlfriend? In any way, Hermione really was in no mood to dance. Luckily for her, Betty butted in. Leaning a bit closer to Mulciber, the girl declared loudly,

"Get lost, Giff. You're being sleazy again."

A frown appeared between Mulciber's eyebrows and he drawled, "I didn't ask  _you_."

Unimpressed by the sharp tint in Mulciber's voice, Betty took a large gulp from her bottle before she replied, "Maybe you should, because I really like that song."

With that the frown melted from his face and Mulciber cocked his eyebrows, eyes wandering over Betty in consideration. Betty didn't wait for him to come to terms with the turn of events, but grabbed Mulciber by the arm and pulled him towards the dance floor.

"Come on, then," she ordered. "Song's almost over."

Hermione watched as the pair joined the others on the dance floor.  _Well, better her than me_ , she decided wryly.

"Look at that," Sarah's scornful voice interrupted Hermione's musing. "If it isn't our  _favourite_  Slytherin."

Hermione looked up over to the entrance door. Sure enough, her third dorm mate had just entered the common room. Hermione didn't really know the girl. Obviously, she was not in Rosalie's circle of friends. The girl scurried through the room, nervous look on her face. Just as she passed their sofa, Sarah threw a Butterbeer cork at her and jeered loudly,

"Hey, Gamp. What are you doing here? You're not invited."

The dark-haired girl stopped and eyed them apprehensively. With horribly false concern in her voice, Sarah asked, "Poor Gampy, don't you think it's long past your bedtime?" She laughed spitefully. "Go on. Leave the adults alone."

Gamp's hands tightening into fists and Hermione's stomach knotted with sympathy as she saw the violent blush on the other girl's face. Crinkling her nose in disgust, Hermione glared at Sarah. This was really uncalled for.

"Come on, leave her alone," Hermione admonished Sarah.

The girl turned to Hermione and drawled, "What's up with you today? Turned into a good samaritan?"

_No, just a decent human being_ , Hermione thought, annoyed that she couldn't speak her mind. Rosalie's friends were nasty, but that was old news, wasn't it?

"I just don't see why you care so much what Gamp is up to," Hermione replied tightly.

A devious smirk curved Sarah's rosy lips and she drawled, "Yes, you're right Rosalie. We  _really_  shouldn't care. We're above her, after all."

Hermione barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. This was so typically Slytherin, twisting her words until they were unrecognizable. Still smirking evilly, Sarah shrugged her shoulders and completely ignored Gamp.

_At least I managed to make her leave Gamp alone_ , Hermione sighed inwardly.

Cautiously, she peered at the other girl. Gamp still stood by the sofa. Hermione felt horrible as she spied the shame burning on the girl's face. As their eyes met, though, Hermione tensed. Gamp's eyes were narrowed dangerously as they glared at her and Hermione was taken aback by the hate and anger smouldering there. Still, feeling shocked by those emotions, Hermione watched as the girl turned around and hurriedly left to the dorms, still with that dark look on her face.  _Well_ , Hermione thought dryly,  _I certainly didn't make a new friend today_.

~.~.~

The day after the party, Hermione used the first chance she got to get away from the other Slytherins and all the drama. Breathing out in relief, she left the busy castle behind and stepped outside. The cold air managed to wipe away her sorrows for a moment and Hermione wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. Bright sun rays fought their way through Scotland's grey sky and slowly heated up her black cloak.

Feeling a bit better now, Hermione strolled down the path from Hogwarts towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, enjoying the solitude. She just passed a bunch of megalithic stones on her way to the forest as she saw a figure sitting in the middle of the stone circle. Curiosity awakened, she walked closer. As she finally recognized the figure, she wished she had just ignored the whole thing. Riddle sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the stone circle and focused on something on the ground before him. He heard Hermione's approach and now looked up at her.

"What do  _you_  want here?" Riddle asked brusquely.

Hermione's plan of silent retreat thus foiled, she sighed softly and stepped closer.

"I was just walking by," Hermione told the Slytherin while trying to peer at what he was so focused on.

Riddle threw her a sour look and snapped, "Sit down. Your hovering is annoying."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his rude tone, but in the end plopped down beside him. Now close enough, she saw what had Riddle so preoccupied. In front of him on the grass lay a pile of polished pebble-like stones. Each had a little rune carved in its surface. Immediately as Hermione recognized the stones, she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Are those rune stones?" she asked, disdainful tinge in her voice.

Riddle glared at her warningly and sneered, "Yes. Not all of us were chucked out of Divination."

Barely, Hermione managed to turn a rather scornful snort into a cough.  _Divination? Seriously?_  Again she peeked at the rune stones. This was ridiculous. Throwing rune stones was even worse than palmistry.

"And you expect to see your future in that pile of dirty stones?" She couldn't help the mocking streak in her tone.

Riddle scowled at her darkly and scoffed, "For people without a shred of talent, I'm sure it must look like  _magic_." He scanned her with a condescending air and explained pompously, "Divination is an ancient art. Only few are exceptional enough to understand its intricate workings. Even fewer are able to put this venerable craft to use."

"Hu-huh." Hermione nodded, banning all sarcasm from her tone. She smiled innocently and inquired, "What do the stones say about your future, then?"

Riddle, seemingly mollified by her display of honest curiosity, bent over the rune stones. He squinted at them for a while, knitting his brow and pursing his lips.

"It's a bit unclear," he finally admitted.

Hermione rolled her eyes, glad he couldn't see it as he still studied the useless stones. Riddle poked one of the rune stones with his finger, expression of utter concentration on his face, and she could just shake her head at his antics. He was usually so intelligent, how could he believe in such a silly subject like Divination?

"And?" Hermione prodded after another stretch of silence.

Riddle's eyes flashed at her with irritation smouldering in them. Hermione plastered a look of innocent curiosity on her face and smiled at him disarmingly. He eyed her for a moment suspiciously, before he cleared his throat and declared imperiously,

"Many factors influence a good reading. Currently, the lunar altitude induces an unfavourable gravitational pull and distorts an accurate prediction."

"I see," Hermione said, proud that her inflection did not hint that she knew he was bullshitting right now.

Riddle didn't add more and Hermione watched him stowing the rune stones away in a small velvet pouch. He slipped the pouch into his robe pocket before he casually leaned back on his arms. Condescending air around him, he glanced at Hermione through the corners of his eyes.

"I heard you stay at Hogwarts during the Christmas break?" Riddle needled disdainfully. "What happened? Your mother didn't want you home?"

Hermione gritted her teeth so hard she was afraid she'd break a tooth. Riddle was  _horrible_. Was the guy even  _able_  to say anything without being hurtful or plain insulting? The silly smile on her face started to slip.

"I assume you're staying as well?" Hermione inquired, anger already boiling close to the surface.

"Like always," was Riddle's curt reply.

Hermione peered at him and pondered the sour look on his face. His family wasn't a topic he liked to talk about, was it? Hermione realized vindictively. Now that Riddle posed as a Pureblood, she wondered how he'd explain why he had to stay at Hogwarts during the holidays. After all, she doubted Riddle had told anyone that he lived in a Muggle orphanage. Hermione innocently fluttered her eyelashes at him and asked,

"Why are you never going home, Tom?"

Riddle's expression immediately darkened and he hissed, "You know my family is busy. They don't often visit Britain anymore. I much prefer staying here at Hogwarts anyway."

_What a liar_ , Hermione thought reproachfully. Sadly, she couldn't call Riddle out on his lies. So, instead she said, easy smile in place, "Oh, but I would really  _love_  to meet your family. Don't you think it's time to introduce us?"

Annoyance flittered over Riddle's handsome face. "Why do you keep asking that? I told you, my family's not easily available."

_Yeah_ , Hermione thought dryly.  _because you killed them_. She wondered how Riddle could live with himself. His blatant lies were disgusting. Hermione didn't want to let him get away so easily so she asked,

" _Where_  does your family live, again? After all, you are descended from Salazar Slytherin himself. I bet your family has some impressive estates. And yet," Hermione pouted at Riddle. "you've never invited me."

There was a cold glint in Riddle's eyes now. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, barely able to keep a scowl from showing on his face. Hermione would have liked to smirk at him. He did not like the direction this conversation had taken, did he? After a moment, Riddle said stiffly,

"Did you know that this year Slughorn is responsible for the Yule ball preparations?"

Hermione would have liked to snort at this very obvious red herring he threw at her. Did he really think it was so easy to divert her attention with such a cheap diversion? It was almost insulting. Was he even trying? Hermione wondered as she eyed the Slytherin in distaste. She would have liked to prod him some more about his non-existent family, but she could already feel Riddle's magic angrily storming around him. She certainly didn't want to risk him pulling his wand at her.

"Yule Ball…?" Hermione murmured as his words slowly sunk in.

She scrunched up her face. No-one had told her there would be a Yule ball this year. Couldn't she be spared anything? Riddle rolled his eyes at her in exasperation.

"Don't play stupid," he scoffed. "You and your little friends were slobbering about that bloody ball since April."

Trying to act as if that was old news to her, Hermione simply nodded. She really needed to watch out more. This was a dangerous game she played. One little slip-up like this and it could be the end of her.

"What's with the ball, then?" she asked flippantly.

Riddle ran his fingers through his silky hair and eyed her with disinterest. "I'm pretty sure no-one was desperate enough to ask you to the ball."

He cocked an eyebrow at Hermione as if daring her to disagree. She simply continued to stare at him, wondering how it would play out if she just punched him in the face right now. As he got no reaction, Riddle informed her imperiously,

"Sadly, as Head Boy I  _have_  to attend. So you're going with me."

He didn't even try to hide the fact that this was an order. Hermione felt white hot anger forcefully bubbling up in her. This was an even worse invitation than the one Ron proffered back in their fourth year.

"'s that so?" she gritted out.

"Yes," Riddle decided authoritatively. "And I expect you to not get drunk and make a fool out of yourself like you did at the summer solstice at the Malfoys."

Hands balled to angry fists, Hermione could feel her magic raging furiously through her body. She really couldn't help it as her act slipped the tiniest bit and she snapped at Riddle heatedly,

"You're awfully sure of yourself. What makes you think I would want to go to the ball with  _you_?"

Her confrontational tone immediately caused a sharp frown to form on Riddle's face. The bored manner slipped from him and he now stared at Hermione, his blue eyes frosted over. Hermione shuddered as she felt his dark magic building up around him, already pulling at her menacingly.

"I'm really not in the mood for your fractious behaviour," Riddle whispered icily. "Better shut up now."

Hermione was intimidated by his threatening behaviour. Still, she didn't want to give up and spat mordantly, "That's what you want, is it? Someone who shuts up and just smiles and nods?"

An insidious smirk distorted Riddle's lips and he mocked, "Yes. I'm not spending time with you to talk, love."

His cruel derision made Hermione forget all about her act as Rosalie Black and she couldn't stop herself to hurl sharp sarcasm at him, "Oh, that's nice. I'm just so  _easily_  available, aren't I?" She snorted at him, "And after this you really think I'd go to that stupid ball with you?!"

Hermione's angry rant made Riddle glare at her dangerously while his dark magic ripped at her balefully. Malice dripped from his words as he replied, "But that's what you are, Rosalie:  _Easy_. Everybody knows it." A cruel smirk graced his face and he added callously, "You shouldn't forget that without me you are nothing. Who would waste time with a stupid little girl like you? In case you haven't noticed, no-one in Slytherin really needs you. Don't you know what they think about you, say about you?" An evil smile spread on his face. "To them you are nothing but a worthless floozy."

Nastily, Riddle smirked down at her. Hermione was too shocked to say anything as his harsh words slowly sunk in.

"Don't forget," he told her lightly. "that you are quite replaceable. I don't need you at all." He reached for her and twirled a strand of her black hair lazily around a finger. "So, I would suggest you use your empty little head and remember how grateful you should be that I tolerate your presence."

His hateful words left Hermione speechless. She tensed as Riddle then bent closer to her and placed a chilling kiss on her cheek. It left her in goose bumps, and not in the good kind. With wide eyes, she watched as Riddle got up, arrogant smirk in place, and without further words walked away.

Hermione remained sitting on the grass, shivering. Angrily, she rubbed over her cheek, trying to get rid of the tingly feeling his lips had left behind. She couldn't believe how he had just now talked to her. It was horrible how he treated his own girlfriend. Merlin knew Hermione didn't expect Tom Riddle to be in any way nice or warm, but this right now… it made her pity Rosalie Black. Hermione wondered why the girl stayed with Riddle in the first place. Maybe he was quite popular and being his girlfriend would make the other students adore her, but no boost of popularity was worth to get insulted like this.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. She imagined Ron ever talking to her like that. She would have probably slapped him. Hermione surely didn't condone violence but in this case… Still, Ron would never talk down to her like Riddle just had. Even if he would, Harry would curse him the moment he heard of it.

Hermione was probably just lucky that she had such good friends. Something Rosalie Black obviously didn't have. Hermione couldn't picture anyone of her current house mates defending Rosalie against Riddle. They would probably egg him on.

Hermione shook her head, deeply troubled by this event. She seriously doubted she would be able to pose as Rosalie Black for much longer.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	9. The Devil’s Advocate

The next few days, Hermione avoided Riddle completely. It wasn't that hard as obviously he wasn't very keen on spending time with his supposed girlfriend anyway. Hermione spotted him sometimes hanging around with his junior Death Eaters. Maybe Riddle should take one of them as his boyfriend, because apparently Hermione was not up to his standards. His cruel words still circled through her head and she was hit by the strong urge to curse the git whenever she saw him.

Angrily, Hermione slammed the door as she entered her dorm. Her bag was carelessly flung on her bed, before she threw herself on one of the leather sofas. Since Riddle's verbal attack, her temper had been on an all-time high and the classes she had to pull through pretending to be on Rosalie's level weren't helping the matter either. Why, just now professor Arterbury had given her a solid 'T' for her latest essay and Hermione felt like throwing up. School just wasn't that much fun when you constantly failed all your classes. She groaned tiredly as she stretched out on the sofa, trying get comfortable.

"You look exhausted," a voice startled Hermione.

She turned her head and found Sarah lounging on the armchair, filing her nails. Hermione really didn't appreciate the company at the moment, but she still greeted the Slytherin,

"Oh… Hi. I didn't see you there."

Sarah shrugged as if she couldn't care any less. "Why're you not with Riddle?"

Hermione groaned and put her arm over her eyes. With her lying on the couch and Sarah sitting on the chair, she almost felt like being in a psychiatrist's office. Maybe it was that feeling that drove Hermione to admit,

"Tom's an asshole. I really don't get why he's so popular."

"Well," Sarah supplied indifferently. "He has good grades, is a really powerful wizard and it doesn't hurt that he looks hot."

"Isn't that nice for him?" Hermione said sardonically.

"What's wrong? Did you two argue?"

Hermione peered at the other girl. Sarah had stopped filing her nails and reached for a light red polish.

"Tom's an inconsiderate bastard," she told the other girl, voice tight with anger.

"Uh-hu." Sarah nodded, unperturbed by Hermione's lost temper. "If he's so horrible, why're you still with him?"

Hermione had no answer to that. Being Riddle's girlfriend was her cover story. She couldn't break up with him. After all, Rosalie Black would never do that.

"Just break up with him," Sarah repeated languidly.

Again, Hermione didn't reply. She had no idea what to do. Her options were severely limited. If she stayed with Riddle, her cover would sooner or later be compromised. If she broke up with him, she risked people getting suspicious. Her only hope was that Dumbledore succeeded in finding a way to send her into the future before her lies blew up in her face.

At Hermione's continued silence, Sarah enclosed suggestively, "I hear Mulciber has the hots for you."

"Mulciber? How'd you know?" Hermione asked more to say anything than out of real interest.

"He told me," came Sarah's voice, sounding quite blasé. "In detail, actually. Wish I could etch those images out of my brain."

Hermione chuckled softly. Merlin, she was feeling so tired. All this stress was slowly taking its toll. She needed to ask Dumbledore if he had found anything yet. Then again, he had said he would tell her as soon as something came up. Maybe she should just give up and throw herself from the Astronomy tower, Hermione thought wryly. At least her headache would be gone.

"By the way, did you talk with your brother?" Sarah asked loftily.

"About what?" Hermione mumbled tiredly.

"Merlin, Rosalie. Try to focus," the blonde scoffed. "Cygnus, you wanted to talk to him. We're almost out of Murt."

That didn't clear anything up for Hermione, although the irritated look on Sarah's face told her that it probably should.

"Murt…?"

"Seriously, don't play dumb," Sarah rebuked her. "I already gave you the money. Get the Murtlap Essence from Cygnus."

"Why would you-"

Hermione interrupted herself as the description of Murtlap Essence finally came to her. ' _Solution of strained and pickled tentacles of Murtlaps. Usually applied on the skin to soothe cuts and abrasions_ '. Hermione also knew that it was not intended to be resorbed via the gastro-intestinal system. The hallucinogens in the Murtlap's skin would induce ' _an altered perception of reality coupled with an elevated mood'_. Hermione threw Sarah a withering look.  _Of course_ , she thought wryly.  _Of course, they would be doing drugs and selling them, too_. Maybe that finally solved the mystery of how Rosalie could stand being Riddle's girlfriend.

"Okay," Hermione assured, just not caring anymore. "Sure, I'll talk with Cygnus."

Sarah nodded imperiously and returned to polishing her nails. Hermione irritably rubbed at her temples. She didn't even know what Cygnus looked like, her own alleged brother.

"I'm going to take a bath," Hermione told the blonde.

Sarah gave a noncommittal grunt while she inspected her nails. Hermione ignored the girl and shuffled into the bathroom. Maybe a hot bath would help her relieve a bit of her stress.

~.~.~

Hermione  _did_  feel a tiny bit more relaxed after her bath and a quick nap. She almost felt like a human being again. Yawning contently, she trekked to the Great Hall. It was dinner time and she intended to stuff her face before she went back to bed. She hadn't even bothered to put on her complete uniform, school robe and tie still lying in the dorm. Hermione didn't care. This wasn't even her body. On her way she heard a shaky voice coming from a dark corridor she had just passed.

"-can't tell them," the voice sobbed. " _Please_. They wouldn't… wouldn't understand."

The fear in that voice stood in harsh contrast to the fake solicitude in the one answering, "Oh but, Becky. You're lying to them. It's just not _right_."

Hermione groaned in frustration as she recognized the second voice. Immediately, her elevated mood evaporated and her head started to ache again.

"Please, Tom. Why does it even matter?" the first voice, Becky, pleaded desperately.

"You can't expect me to  _lie_  to my own housemates," Riddle replied, something sharp and dangerous hidden underneath the silk of his voice. "Corner knew the truth, didn't he?"

Reluctantly, Hermione stepped into the corridor. As expected, she saw Riddle loitering there. With one arm he leaned against the wall, successfully boxing in a terrified Ravenclaw girl between his body and the stone wall. Threateningly, Riddle leered down at the girl, devious glint shining in his eyes.

"They're my friends," Becky whispered unsteadily.

Hermione silently stepped a bit closer. They hadn't noticed her yet. She felt disgusted with Riddle's behaviour. The girl was barely older than fourteen and clearly terrified of him. Hermione watched with mounting anger how Riddle leaned a bit down to the girl, vile smirk twisting up his lips. Hermione's first impulse was to step in and help the Ravenclaw, but once again her hands were tied. As Rosalie Black there was no way she could confront Riddle. Feeling horrible for leaving the poor girl, Hermione made to turn away. It was then that Riddle hissed,

"They wouldn't be your friends if they knew what you are,  _Mudblood_."

The last word was spat with so much revulsion that Becky jerked away from Riddle as if he had slapped her. Tears sprang to the girl's eyes and Hermione saw red. Resolutely, she shoved Rosalie Black into the last recess of her mind and there was nothing she could do as her temper snapped. Hermione opened her mouth and snarled, anger burning around the name,

"Tom!"

Both the other occupants in the corridor looked at her. At first Becky seemed to be immensely relieved, but that disappeared as the girl recognized Hermione. Soon the terror was back on her pretty face. Riddle on the other hand glared at Hermione darkly, obviously displeased by his girlfriend's interference.

"What the fuck do you think you are you doing?!" Hermione snapped at him furiously.

Riddle cocked an annoyed eyebrow. "Can't you see? I'm right in the middle of something."

Hermione didn't answer him and stepped over to them. Scanning the still shaking Ravenclaw girl, she found that by now the tears had brimmed over and the girl cried silently. Hermione threw a withering glare at Riddle. Then she smiled at the girl and suggested kindly,

"Why don't you go to the Great Hall? It's dinner time. I'll handle this here."

The Ravenclaw stared up at her with wide, anxious eyes. Clearly, she didn't trust Hermione any more than Riddle. Finally, though, the girl made up her mind, nodded jerkily and quickly scurried away down the corridor. Immediately, Riddle wanted to follow her, but Hermione stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Temper flaring dangerously, she glared up at him. How could he be so cruel? Terrorizing innocent girls? Just what was  _wrong_  with Tom Riddle? Hermione was completely fed up with his intolerable behaviour. Thunderous expression on his face, Riddle wrenched his arm away from her. There was murderous threat wrapped around his cold voice as he said,

"I really hope for your sake, you have a good explanation for your behaviour."

Hermione shook her head in exasperation and snapped heatedly, "Why in Merlin's name do you have to pull shit like that? Seriously,  _what_ makes you think this is even remotely okay?"

"That little freak is a Mudblood," Riddle spat at her as if it explained his despicable behaviour.

Hermione felt her magic giving an angry jerk and her fingers itched to pull her wand.  _No_ , she thought to herself irately.  _No, Hermione. He's not worth it._  She couldn't help it, though, as her anger poured out in verbal form.

"Oh noes," Hermione exclaimed, grabbing her chest theatrically. "A Muggleborn?! In Hogwarts? Quickly now, let's burn her lest it spreads." She threw Riddle a dark look, dropped the sarcasm and added venomously, "Can't you just get over yourself?"

Riddle's eyes narrowed and he scanned her for a moment. Hermione could see something dark and dangerous dancing in his eyes. The intimidating look on his face only managed to spur Hermione's own temper.

Malice wrapped around the edges of his voice, Riddle said, "I don't know what's up with you lately, but I don't like it. What happened to you?"

Hermione gritted her teeth at his sharp inquiry. Dimly, she realized that Riddle getting suspicious of her was the last thing she needed, but she was unable to stop now.

"Nothing 'happened' to me," Hermione sniped. "Is it such a strange thing that I should question your motives of threatening a  _fourteen_ _year old_  girl? I think not."

With that Hermione turned on her heels and continued her way to the Great Hall. Her magic raged inside of her and she doubted she could hold it back much longer. To Hermione's frustration a fuming Riddle followed her, clearly not yet ready to admit defeat.

"You know what?" he hissed, nasty glint in his eyes. "Just because I fuck you doesn't mean I won't hurt you if you continue provoking me."

Hermione stomped down the corridor and retorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "Charming. Is this how you sweet-talk the ladies?"

She could feel his dark magic crackling irately in the air, but at this point just didn't care anymore. Hermione was through with this.

"Treat carefully," Riddle told her, a menacing tint twisting his voice. "So far, you've only seen my nice side. I don't have any reservations showing you my other side."

Another hot wave of anger hit Hermione hard as she heard his threat. Was that the only thing he could do? Threaten people and hurt them?  _How pathetic!_  Hermione bristled in anger as she stomped into the hallway leading to the Great Hall, still with Riddle following her.

"I've had it up to  _here_ ," She gesticulated wildly. "with you, Tom. With your insults and threats. I'm done with this. Just leave me the hell alone."

A nasty smirk distorted his handsome features as Riddle scoffed at her harshly, "As if you could do anything on your own.  _Useless slag_."

Finally, they reached the Great Hall. Still arguing with a stubborn Riddle, Hermione angrily kicked open the doors and marched into the hall. She was  _not_  going to miss dinner because Riddle was again being a right bastard. The whole student body was already assembled, sitting at their house tables and enjoying dinner.

"I don't  _care_  what you think, Tom," Hermione hissed at him, ice frosting her voice. "I stopped caring a long time ago."

"And you think I care about  _you_?" Riddle venomously snarled at her.

Dimly, Hermione noticed how, upon their entry, the Great Hall had grown rather silent. The students had stopped eating and instead stared at the spectacle going on between their Head Boy and his girlfriend.

"No, I  _know_  you don't care," Hermione lacerated, her venomous tone making a few first-year Hufflepuffs jump in their seats. "I mean, that's your thing, isn't it? Not giving a shit about anything but yourself."

White hot anger washed through her, making her magic bristle and crackle in the air. Voice rising, she yelled at him, "Are you even  _able_  to have normal emotions? You seriously belong in therapy, Riddle."

Riddle stood before her, his frosty eyes boring into her, while his magic destructively stormed around him. Hermione saw a few of the students sitting closest flinch away. Riddle abruptly took a step towards her, making Hermione reach for her wand. There was no attack, though. Instead he bent down to her and, murderous look on his face, whispered into her ear,

"If you ever talk to me like that again, I will make you regret it."

The threat behind his words was blatant and Riddle didn't even try to hide it. Fire burning in her eyes, Hermione grabbed him by the collar. She heard students near-by gasp, but paid them no attention. Instead, Hermione pulled Riddle closer and snarled furiously, loud voice echoing through the whole hall,

"Fine. Then maybe it's best we never talk again."

Hermione released her tight hold on him as Riddle stepped away. In a deathly cold voice, he replied, "What do you mean by that?"

"It's over," Hermione clamoured heatedly. "We're through!"

Riddle's expression was almost comic, as if he didn't understand the concept of a girl breaking up with him. Hermione for one was in no mood to wait until he came to terms with it.

"Good-bye, Tom," she said frostily, turned around and left him standing there.

Hermione stomped to the nearest table – which was Hufflepuff's – and grabbed a cheese sandwich, glowering at the students that stared at her with wide eyes. Then she marched from the Great Hall, coldly ignoring the upcoming whispers and murmurs from the other students who seemed to be quite excited by all the drama.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}


	10. True Colours

If Hermione had thought that she had managed to escape the drama by stalking from the Great Hall after her screaming match with Riddle, she would have been terribly wrong. She found that out the very next day. In the end, she couldn't even blame the student body for jumping at any juicy gossip they could get their hands on. After all, they were all locked away in a castle in the middle of no-where in Scotland. There wasn't much you could do for entertainment and apparently talking about Rosalie Black ditching Tom Riddle was very high up on that list.

"I heard that he cursed the shit out of Malfoy yesterday," Betty's voice dripped into Hermione's ears. "For no good reason, either. He must have been  _preeetty_  pissed."

Hermione peered at the girl sitting beside her. Betty's chatter once again stopped her from hearing anything the Charm's professor said – Hell, Hermione still didn't even know the woman's  _name_  – but she couldn't really muster the appropriate indignation.

"I don't care what Tom does," Hermione whispered while trying to copy the instructions from the blackboard.

Unfortunately the student sitting in front of her was rather tall and she couldn't really see the blackboard.  _The benefits of sitting in the last row_ , Hermione thought sarcastically and dropped her quill. As inconspicuously as possible, she let her gaze wander to Riddle who sat at a table in the front row. Neatly, he was copying everything down the professor had put on the blackboard and appeared to be the perfect student. Hermione pulled a face. She felt very uncomfortable to be sitting in the same room as Riddle. Or maybe  _terrified_  would be the better word to describe her feelings right now. Hermione still couldn't believe the things she had thrown at Riddle yesterday in her lost temper.

_Merlin, Voldemort is going to murder me_ , Hermione realized miserably. _He's tortured people into insanity for a lot less._ She groaned and let her head fall on the table. It only managed to earn her a disapproving glare from the professor.  _What else is new?_  Hermione wondered, bitter sarcasm filling her mind.

"Why'd you do it?" Betty inquired and raised her delicate eyebrows in curiosity. "Why break up with him?"

Yes, why indeed? Because she was apparently suicidal? Hermione sighed deeply before she replied in a bout of honesty, "Because Tom's a horrible person and even if he were the last bloke on earth, I wouldn't touch him with a barge pole."

"Harsh," Betty said, though an amused grin curled her lips.

Hermione again strained her neck, trying to make out what was on the blackboard. Betty didn't even try but proceeded to doodle deformed unicorns on her parchment.

"Do you have eyes on someone else?" the girl asked cheerfully.

Hermione blinked at her, and commented dryly, "Jeez, I just broke up with Tom yesterday. Can't you give me a day or two?"

Betty shrugged, not looking up from her unicorn infested parchment. "'s not your style, is it? Flying solo?"

Hermione chose to not reply.

~.~.~

As it turned out 'flying solo' wasn't Riddle's style either. Hermione crinkled her nose in disgust as she stared at the repulsive display of Riddle snogging the life out of none other than Hermione's own dorm mate, Sarah. The air in the Slytherin common room was so tense, it could have been cut with a knife. Not a word was uttered as the other Slytherins eagerly watched Hermione on the one end of the room and Riddle feeling up Sarah on the other. In morbid entertainment, their heads moved like they were watching a tennis match. Apparently, they keenly awaited some explosive form of reaction from Hermione.

Hermione wasn't at all sorry to disappoint her spectators. Whatever they wanted to see, angry tears or heated insults, she was not going to accommodate them. With sick curiosity, she observed Riddle's antics. His hands were all over Sarah while she didn't seem to mind that he thrust his tongue down her throat.  _Being kissed by Voldemort_ … Hermione shuddered. At least she had managed to avoid that horrible fate.

It was absurd, but Hermione felt strangely relieved as she watched the lewd display. Was this Riddle's revenge for her having humiliated him in front of the whole school? He went and flaunted his new 'girlfriend' in her face? Merlin, and she had feared he would sneak into her dorm tonight and throw the Killing Curse at her. Hermione snickered softly. Maybe she wouldn't have to sleep with her wand under the pillow after all, she mused while she watched Riddle snogging Sarah. What was he even trying to do here? Humiliate her? Hermione shook her head. As if she even cared. The only thing this proved was that Riddle really wasn't Lord Voldemort yet. He was still nothing but a schoolboy. She didn't need to be quite so terrified of him.

"It's really over, isn't it?" a voice ripped her from her musings.

Hermione looked up and found a boy lounging on the couch beside her. With his short black hair, pale skin and muscular built, he was quite handsome. A smirk hung from his lips as he scanned Hermione, eyes glinting with amusement.

"…what?" mumbled Hermione, a bit unbalanced by his sudden appearance.

The handsome boy cocked his eyebrows and prompted, "Riddle? It's really over between you?"

"Oh, yeah," Hermione said, still wondering who the stranger was. "Pretty much over."

The boy hummed in appreciation and his smirk widened. He skidded a bit closer to Hermione and whispered into her ear,

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to pull such a dramatic exit?"

Hermione couldn't help but blush as she felt this unknown boy so near her. Whoever he was, he seemed to be quite familiar with Rosalie, because he now wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Still grinning widely, he continued,

"I could have taken bets from the guys. You know, made some money."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in indignation. Before she could lecture the boy, though, he just shrugged and said,

"Ah well, too late now." His dark eyes wandered to Riddle who was still busy groping Sarah. Then the boy jeered amusedly, "Pff, look at Sarah. I tell you, she's been waiting for this. Riddle's like some sort of trophy for you guys, isn't he?"

"Erm…" Hermione stuttered. "I wouldn't… phrase it quite like that…?"

"Of course not," the unknown boy drawled sarcastically. Then he changed the topic and asked, "So, what are you going to do during Christmas break?"

Now Hermione furrowed her brow. How was this any of his business? "I don't know… stay at Hogwarts?"

The handsome stranger pursed his lips in contemplation. Then he supplied, "Maybe I'll stay, too. Or visit the Lestranges. Not sure yet."

Hermione just wanted to open her mouth and inquire why he even told her, when the boy reached for his robe pocket and pulled a small potion vial out of it. Attractive smirk curling his lips, he offered the vial to Hermione. She felt quite confused as she hesitantly accepted it.

"You know, Rosalie," the boy told her. "Maybe you should lay off the Murt for some time." He poked with his index finger against her forehead and taunted, "It's turning people stupid."

He laughed at the outrage blossoming on Hermione's face and before she could retort anything he quickly slipped away. It was as she watched him walk away that it finally dawned on her who he was. Hermione had just met Cygnus Black, Rosalie's brother.

Hermione's gaze fell back to the potion vial in her hand. Oh Merlin, this was the Murtlap Essence Sarah had talked about, wasn't it? Realizing that she was holding a vial of drugs in her hand, Hermione hastily stuffed it into her pocket. A deep frown appeared on her face and she swore to flush that stuff down the toilet the next chance she got.

_Really, now_.  _Taking drugs?_  Hermione huffed angrily, grabbed her book and returned to her reading. For a few moments, she tried to concentrate on her book, but it was a lost cause. Now that Cygnus had left her alone, she once again noticed all the eyes on her. Riddle was still snogging Sarah like there was no tomorrow and the other Slytherins blatantly stared at Hermione, waiting hungrily for some kind of reaction.

After another five minutes Hermione finally had had enough, she abruptly closed her book and stood up. The Slytherins watched her with bated breath as she crossed the common room. Hermione could almost feel their disappointment in the air as she simply passed Riddle and Sarah wordlessly and descended to her dorm. Truth be told, she  _was_  a bit irritated by Riddle's disrespectful behaviour if only on Rosalie's behalf. Hermione had always known Voldemort to be sadistic and cruel, but petty? That was new.

Still, it was better than him trying to curse her. A relieved breath left Hermione as she entered the dorm. It was blissfully empty. Yawning deeply, she walked over to her bed and plopped down on the soft mattress. Tiredly, she stretched her legs and crossed her arms behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. Sometimes she just wondered what her life had become.

Hermione must have dozed off for a while as was woken by the dorm's door being swung open. In paraded Sarah, smug smile in place and Betty in tow. Hermione furrowed her brow at the haughty girl. She only now noticed that she had no idea what Sarah's surname was… or Betty's for that matter. Hermione sighed softly. In the meantime, Sarah had flounced over to the couch and sat down, Betty beside her, while she threw Hermione a rather self-satisfied look.

"I'm  _so_  sorry, Rosalie," Sarah said, pity dripping from her voice. "I know Tom must still mean so much to you, but you see… he asked me out. And I just would have felt horrible saying no to him. Especially after… you now…  _yesterday_. The poor guy."

Hermione sat up on her bed and eyed the girl in question. At Sarah's expectant look, the ex-Gryffindor shrugged her shoulders and said casually,

"Well… Don't worry. I really don't mind."

"Oh." Sarah smiled at Hermione encouragingly, crocodile tears glinting in her eyes. "You're  _sooo_  brave."

The display was a tad overdone and Hermione was entirely unimpressed by the melodrama. Seeing that there was no reaction coming from Hermione's corner, Sarah turned to Betty and repeated,

"Isn't she such a strong little thing?"

Betty nodded. Either she was awed by Sarah's act of fake concern or disturbed by its ridiculousness, in any case, she remained silent. Sarah returned her attention to Hermione. There was an amiable smile on the Slytherin's face, but it never reached her eyes. They instead glinted with barely concealed triumph.

"We are still friends, yes?" Sarah prodded.

The cheerful tone in her voice was a bit too enthusiastic, a bit too hopeful to be true. Hermione couldn't say that she cared, so she again shrugged.

"Yeah… sure."

She earned a dazzling smile in return and wondered if she should tell Sarah that she was overdoing it.

"You know," the Slytherin continued cheerfully. "Tom and me, we just clicked. I guess it was always meant to happen."

Hermione dearly hoped that was not the case. Fate couldn't have been so cruel to Sarah. Though, Hermione had to say she wasn't very impressed by that smug undercurrent the girl displayed in this conversation.

"How'd you know?" Betty now inquired, eyeing Sarah with a hint of admiration. "You never talked with Riddle that much."

Sarah released a shrill and fake giggle. "Oh, you know. We don't need to talk, per se. We just understand each other."

"Oh, that's so wonderful," Betty gushed, smiling widely.

Hermione felt a bit sick actually. Especially as Sarah again drowned her in a look of faux pity.

"Don't worry, Rosalie," she soothed with feigned sympathy. "You'll find your Mr Right, too."

Betty seemed to be unable to hear the condescension in Sarah's voice, but just nodded happily along. Hermione cocked a quizzical eyebrow and inquired,

"And you think Riddle is  _your_  Mr Right?"

Immediately, Sarah nodded. "Of course he is."

" _Dear Lord_ ", Hermione thought, appalled. " _For your sake, I hope he's not_."

The shocked expression on Betty's face and the vile glint in Sarah's eyes told Hermione that she might have said something along the lines out loud. Sarah sighed theatrically.

"Oh dear, I knew something like this would happen."

She stood up, walked over to Hermione and gracefully sat down beside her on the bed. She put a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder, though the barely hidden curl of her lips was anything but soothing.

"Please, don't be jealous," Sarah cooed. "Tom and me, we were just  _meant_  to happen."

Hermione frowned at the other girl and dryly pointed out, "In case you didn't notice.  _I_  broke up with  _him_. I don't care what he's up to now."

Sarah simply looked at her pityingly and said solemnly, "I  _know_ , Rosalie. Tom told me everything."

Now Hermione's curiosity was peaked. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me how he wanted to break up with you," Sarah said, obviously fighting against a smirk. "And how he hinted that to you. That's why you caused that huge scene yesterday, isn't it? You wanted to break it up before he could."

Hermione sighed deeply and shook her head. She raised both her arms and put her hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"I probably can't stop you from wanting to be Tom Riddle's girlfriend," Hermione told the girl seriously. "but I can at least give you a word of advice on the way. You know, from woman to woman."

Sarah watched her, faking disinterest but still eyeing Hermione like a hawk. Hermione ignored the inquisitive look and continued, enunciating every word very carefully,

"Tom is full of shit."

Of course, Sarah immediately huffed in outrage, face turning purple. Betty, though, to her credit tried to hide a laugh behind her hand.

" _How_  can you say that?!" Sarah shrieked. "Insulting him like that. How petty."

Hermione simply shrugged her shoulders, completely fed up by this drama by now. She stood up and wondered where exactly she could go to find a bit blissful solitude.

~.~.~

After the short intermezzo with her dorm mates, Hermione decided to spend the evening in the library. She certainly didn't want to hear Sarah gush about Riddle any longer than she absolutely had to. She also wanted to escape all the stares and inquisitive looks she got from the other students.  _Really?_  Was it really so unbelievable that someone would break up with Riddle? Sure he was quite handsome, she had to admit, but other than that he only had his truly hideous character to offer. Hermione for one would sooner spend her time with the giant squid than with Voldemort. Well, she would give the whole thing a week and the students would surely find some other juicy gossip.

Luckily, Hermione could always count on Hogwarts' library. Gratefully, she hid away in a secluded corner, surrounded by obscure books about Arithmancy. After having buried herself in a pile of books, Hermione already felt a lot calmer. Blissful smile on her face, she lost herself between the pages. Time flew by, the shadows of the bookshelves grew longer and soon, too soon, Hermione's reading time came to an abrupt end.

"I'm sorry, but it's almost curfew. You really need to go back to you common room."

Hermione looked up and found the librarian standing by her table. The man smiled down at her apologetically and she only now realized that it was already completely dark outside.

"Oh. Okay," she mumbled, blushing a bit. "I'll be leaving then. Thank you."

"No problem," the librarian replied kindly.

He waved his wand and magically helped Hermione sort all the books back to their places on the shelves. She thanked him again, before she grabbed her bag and reluctantly left the sacred halls of the library. Hermione really didn't want to go back to her dorm. Hopefully, her dorm mates were already asleep. Dragging her feet, she left the library behind.

In hindsight, it was sheer folly on Hermione's part to prance back to the Slytherin common room through dark abandoned corridors, completely alone. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she moved through the maze that was Hogwarts' corridors, not really paying attention. So, Hermione was embarrassingly unprepared as suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows and blocked her way. She stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes widened in shock as she stared up at Tom Riddle's handsome face.

Creepy smirk in place, he eyed Hermione. "Hello, Rosalie."

His deep voice sent cold shivers down her spine. Fear crawling up on her, Hermione stumbled a step away from him. She cursed herself for her stupidity. Had she  _really_  thought Riddle would let it drop that easily?  _Stupid, Hermione!_

"What do you want?" she replied, trying to inject confidence into her voice.

His eerie smile only widened and Riddle replied ominously, "I just want to talk."

"Yeah…" Hermione said nervously. "I don't think so."

Quick as a snake, the Slytherin reached for her and tightly clasped her arm.

"That wasn't a request," Riddle told her, forcefully pulling her closer.

Immediately, Hermione tried to wrench away from him, but he was a lot stronger than her. Easily, Riddle forced her from the corridor and into a near-by room. It was so conveniently placed, Hermione was sure he had planned the ambush like that. How could she have been so stupid as to walk into his trap? Riddle violently pushed her into the room, so that Hermione almost lost her balance as he finally released her. Using her temporary confusion, Riddle sent a locking charm at the door. By the time Hermione whirled around to him, it was already too late.

"What are you doing?!" she hissed at him, panic already clouding her thoughts.

"As I said," Riddle's voice was ice cold. "I want to talk."

Hermione eyed him warily, heart racing away in her chest. "About what?"

His eyes were dark pools threatening to drown her as he scanned her while his powerful magic already bristled in the air.

"About your behaviour," Riddle replied with malice oozing from his calm voice.

Hermione swallowed nervously, but still fought for control and decided firmly, "I'm leaving."

Vicious smirk hanging from his lips, Riddle stepped in front of the door and neatly blocked her way. Hermione frantically turned her head as she searched for another escape route. She had no desire to argue with Tom Riddle when they were quite so alone. Maybe she had lost her own time line but she hadn't lost her mind. An altercation with Voldemort was always a very bad idea. She looked back at Riddle and stiffened as she found an alarming red sheen tinting his blue eyes. Twirling his wand casually through his fingers, an eerie smile played around his mouth.

"My my, Rosalie," he purred. "I always knew you were kind of slow, but to be so stupid as to go against me. I would have never thought."

Hermione gulped as she heard the dark inflection in his tone. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared back at him. Trying to ignore her insanely fast beating heart, Hermione said shakily,

"I don't know what your problem is, Tom."

The horrible smirk on his face only widened as he heard the panic in her voice. He looked satisfied, her fear obviously pleasing him. The smirk on his face gained a predatory streak and he hissed,

"Did you think I would let your offending behaviour and insolence just slide?  _No-one_  insults me like that, Rosalie."

Hermione was scared to death by Lord Voldemort threatening her.  _Honestly_. But the insufferable arrogance Riddle displayed managed to raise her temper once again. Temporarily, anger overshadowed her fear. She narrowed her eyes at Riddle and some kind of dam broke. Hermione opened her mouth and sneered disdainfully,

"Well, maybe it's rocking your macho world to the core, but I don't want you anywhere near me. Frankly, you're the worst person I ever met. I'm ashamed to even  _know_  you. Why don't you do us all a favour and jump off the Astronomy Tower?"

Hermione couldn't stop that flood of insults even when everything in her screamed at her to shut up. As she was finished, though, she noticed with trepidation how Riddle now held his wand properly. The red glint in his eyes intensified and he took a threatening step towards her.

"You're going to regret this," Riddle growled at her menacingly.

Hermione sniffed, unimpressed, "I'm sorry you're unable to take the truth."

Riddle glared at her murderously and raised his wand. Her hand itched to pull her own wand but Hermione knew she couldn't do that. _Okay, Hermione, calm down_ , she tried to reason with herself.  _No fighting back or your cover's definitely blown._  Rosalie Black was obviously not very good at duelling. The girl had been thrown out of DADA for Merlin's sake. If Hermione suddenly pulled her skills at fighting, Riddle would know that something was up with her. She glanced at the dark look on his face and shuddered. She would just have to soldier through whatever he threw at her. It wouldn't be anything too bad. Riddle couldn't risk seriously hurting her, could he?

She would be fine, surely.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the comments and kudos on this fic :)


	11. Hasta la vista, baby

" _You're going to regret this," Riddle growled at her menacingly._

_Hermione sniffed, unimpressed, "I'm sorry you're unable to take the truth."_

Riddle, not one to act coy, slashed his wand angrily through the air and Hermione didn't know what she had been thinking when she expected  _Lord Voldemort_  to go easy on her. Now she was confronted with a strong cutting curse and berated herself for her naiveté. Riddle's curse sizzled furiously in the air as it rushed towards her, powerful enough to easily cut through flesh and bone. Hermione had a split second to throw herself to the side. Riddle's curse crashed into one of the tables, slicing through wood like a hot knife through butter. Hermione, lying on the floor, stared at the ruined table with wide eyes, blood rushing in her ears. Then her gaze wandered to Riddle who looked at her with a cruel smirk hanging from his lips and his eyes glowing with an eerie red light. He still threatened her with his wand. Hermione gulped thickly and her cover story as Rosalie Black once again fluttered through her mind…

_Screw this!_

Hermione's hand shot to her robe pocket. In one swift movement, she pulled her wand and stood up. Her hand was steady as stone as she trained her wand at her opponent. A derisive expression crinkled Riddle's nose as he saw her fighting stance.

"Are you serious?" he inquired incredulously. Harsh scorn burned in his eyes as he scanned the wand in Hermione's hand. " _You_  want to duel me? This is ridiculous."

Hermione did take neither her wand nor her eyes from Riddle, ready to attack. This wasn't the time nor the place for acting as Rosalie Black. Hermione gritted her teeth. She was  _not_  dying in the past while Harry and Ron needed her help to destroy the Horcruxes.

"You are pathetic," Riddle scorned cruelly. "Like  _you_  could ever manage to even scrape me with a curse."

Hermione didn't relent even as she saw the dangerous glint smouldering in Riddle's eyes. Instead she told him, voice hard as steel,

"Arrogance is the first step to defeat."

The derision did not leave Riddle's face. He shook his head, mock pity flooding his features.

"As is hubris," he scoffed.

Hermione's reply was a cold smirk and a small mocking bow. Seeing her scorn, Riddle's handsome features twisted with anger. Furiously, he snapped his wand through the air. A greyish curse rushed towards Hermione, air rippling with its power.

Sidestepping the attack was impossible. So Hermione pushed her magic into the wood of her wand and whirled it in the well-known pattern. Her magic obeyed and formed into a thick shield seconds before Riddle's curse forcefully crashed into it. Hermione grimaced as she felt his power raging against her protective barrier. Her shield was strong, though. It sucked in Riddle's curse and then harmlessly burst into nothing, leaving Hermione untouched.

Riddle's face contorted with surprise as he saw his attack so easily defeated. All derision fell from him and he stared at Hermione in disbelief. Even his wand hand sunk to his side as he eyed her as if he had never seen her before. Clearly, Riddle had not expected any sort of resistance. Hermione didn't leave him time to adjust, but furiously brandished her wand.

_Pertunde._

This time a curse of her own rushed towards Riddle. He seemed to be able to recognize it and his eyes widened slightly. Swiftly, he waved his wand and Hermione could feel the force behind his counter attack bristling over her skin. A silver shield appeared in front of Riddle. There was a sharp crack echoing through the room as Hermione's curse impacted with the shield. It didn't manage to break it but it managed to push Riddle, so that he stumbled a few steps back. Hermione used his momentary loss of balance and brandished her wand expertly in a complicated pattern. Her curse was backed by her strong magic as she threw it at Riddle. Forcefully, it crashed into him and this time his shield broke down. For a second, Hermione could see the look of shock on Riddle's face, then her magic brutally flung him away. With a dull thud and a gasp of pain, he was thrown into the stone wall behind him and crumbled to the floor. A fierce smile curved Hermione's lips as she tightly grasped her wand and watched Riddle shakily picking himself up from the floor. Her curse had managed to rip bleeding cuts into his left side and arm and finally all smugness had left the haughty Slytherin.

During the attack Riddle had managed to keep a hold of his pale yew wand. It still lay in his hand as he again faced Hermione. This time, she noticed, he fell into a proper duelling stance. The surprise lingered in his eyes as he kept them trained on her. Hermione shuddered as she scanned Riddle. All mocking demeanour had left him. It was replaced by a new expression. Hermione's fingers tightened nervously around her wand as she stared at that dangerous look on Riddle's face.

There was suspicion burning in his crimson eyes.

Riddle's hard gaze had gained a new intensity as he stared at her. His dark magic flickered around him. Hermione could feel it mounting up around her. She summoned her own magic and viciously fought against the dark force surrounding her. Riddle's magic burned and ached were it made contact with Hermione's own. He pushed and tugged at her magic, testing it, assessing it. All the while, his piercing gaze never wavered from her. Hermione gulped thickly as she spotted hunger lurking in Riddle's eyes.

"No…" he murmured softly as if speaking to himself. "No, not hubris at all."

Before Hermione had the time to process his statement, Riddle attacked. He whirled his wand in an elegant movement and Hermione was confronted with another curse. It crackled with Riddle's raw power and she hastily brought up her wand.

"Scuto," she yelled.

A white barrier appeared between her and the red light rushing towards her. Riddle's curse rammed into her shield and Hermione yelped in pain as she felt the sharp draw on her magic. Instantly, she knew she wouldn't be able to fight off this attack. Riddle's curse was much too powerful as it raged against her failing shield. Hand shaking with the exertion, Hermione flicked her wand and ordered her shield to tilt to the side. Riddle's curse was deflected from its original trajectory. It slipped from her shield, missed Hermione and instead crashed into the wall behind her with a loud bang. Breathing heavily, she once again aimed her wand at Riddle.

"Impressive," was all the Slytherin muttered as he scanned her through dark unreadable eyes.

The frightening hunger Hermione could see on his face had grown in intensity and it was enough to push her into action. Flourishing her wand, she yelled in her mind,  _Morare!_ and her magic rushed towards Riddle. He sharply slashed his wand through the air and swatted Hermione's curse away. Hermione had always known that Voldemort was incredibly powerful, but she had never really faced him in a duel. Now, she looked into his blood-red eyes and she was  _scared_. Her heart raced in a fast pace, making her dizzy and light-headed. Still, she clung to her wand and to her magic with determination burning in her chest. She would  _not_  give up.

Then Riddle attacked and this time there was no tactical manoeuvring, no testing of her limits. He hurled all his raw power at her in form of the darkest curses Hermione had ever been forced to ward off. Riddle's pale yew wand danced through the air as he fired curse after curse at her. Hermione quickly drew up shields or dodged when there was no time for a defensive spell. She gritted her teeth in concentration as she struggled to keep Riddle away. Her own curses flowed from the tip of her wand, flickering with her magic as they crashed into Riddle's defences. Soon sweat was running down her brow and Hermione's breathing was laboured from the exertion. Riddle's attacks never faltered and he didn't even seem to be out of breath, only his eyes glowed in a terrifying red light.

His curses rained down on her with elegance and deadly precision. If she hadn't struggled for her life, Hermione would have called Voldemort's fighting style strangely beautiful. With each of his attacks, though, she could feel her own magic slowly giving way. Already Hermione trembled slightly as she grimly waved her wand, sending another curse at Riddle. Once again he parried, his movements fluent and natural.

In the end, it was a stupid mistake. Riddle attacked and Hermione chose the wrong shield. It  _was_  a very powerful shield, but it took just that split second too long to form and Riddle's curse moved with an unnatural speed. Like an arrow, it shot through Hermione's half-formed shield. Unprotected, she had no choice but abandon the useless shield and dodge the curse bodily. Riddle, though, had counted on that. Hermione's heart stuttered in her chest as she saw triumph gleaming forebodingly in his eyes.

"Frange," Riddle ordered, slashing his wand at her.

In her movement, Hermione had no time to defend herself. Ungracefully, she let herself fall to the floor so Riddle's curse would miss her. With sheer luck, she avoided the brunt of the attack but the curse still managed to scrape her. Hermione cried out as a sharp pain shot through her left ankle and up her whole leg. Seconds later, another curse hit her, relentlessly ripping into her magic. Hermione screamed as crippling pain burned through her. Her eyes were blurred by tears as she waved her wand shakily at the direction she guessed Riddle was and croaked,

"Impedimenta."

She heard the swish of robes and then steps on the stone floor and cursed her bad luck. Obviously she had missed Riddle. Hermione tried getting up from the floor. Her ankle hurt unbearably and she felt sick. She managed to get into a kneeling position and chanced a glance at her attacker. Riddle stood not even two metres away from her. Hermione's breathing hitched as she spotted a malign smirk twisting up his mouth and felt his dark magic sinisterly dancing around him. At this moment she could definitely see how that handsome boy could one day transform into the snake-monster she knew from her time.

Riddle waved his wand and Hermione's mind was clouded by fear. She tried to raise her own wand but was too slow. He already whispered the incantation for his next attack. Riddle's cold, detached voice made her blood freeze over.

"Crucio."

A wave of pain broke down upon Hermione as the horrible curse hit her. Helplessly, she sagged to the floor and twisted and squirmed as indescribable pain wrecked her body. An invisible force crashed into her. Again and again. Cruelly it hit her head, breaking her facial bones and turning her whole face into a bloody, raw piece of meat. All Hermione could do was hope that the force would soon break her skull open so she could finally die.

Abruptly, the cruel pain left her and it took Hermione a second to comprehend that she was not dying. She lay on the floor, her body trembling heavily, while the side of her face was pressed against a cold stone tile. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to get the nausea back under control.

"Now, Rosalie," Hermione heard Riddle's merciless voice hiss. "How does a Pureblood princess, such as yourself, know so many nasty curses?"

Hermione gulped as she heard the dark inflection in his tone. Not a trace of the former derision was left in his voice. Next she felt her wand being ripped from her and another flush of fear hit her hard.

"What are you hiding? You should tell me," Riddle advised cruelly. "Or I will make you hurt."

Hermione knew it was not an empty threat. And she did not want the torture curse to hit her again. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Riddle stood directly before her, coldly smirking down at her trembling form. Hermione could see sick triumph burning in his crimson eyes. Fear cruelly twisted around her chest so she could barely breathe. Still, Hermione knew she  _must not_  tell him the truth.

Her throat hurt as she opened her mouth and croaked, "You're so full of yourself, it's disgusting."

Hermione didn't know what drove her to goad him now, but she supposed there wasn't much else she could do. Riddle's eyes glowed in an eerie light as he glared down at her. Brutally, he stepped on her hand. Hermione whimpered in pain as her fingers were crushed between the stone floor and Riddle's heel.

"I've had enough of your defiance," he hissed at her maliciously.

Yes, and she had had enough of his cruelty, Hermione decided, grim determination taking over. Her body still trembled all over and she felt weak, but she needed to escape Riddle. It was grotesque, but Hermione was glad this wasn't the first time she had been hit by the Torture Curse. It meant she wasn't overwhelmed by the after-effects of the evil curse. Hermione knew how to deal with the pain.

The self-confident smile on Riddle's face told her that he did not expect any form of resistance anymore. Hermione knew she needed to use his complacence. She only had one chance. Her left hand was still being crushed under Riddle's heel but Hermione now raised her other hand and grabbed his ankle.

_Incendio_ , she desperately screamed in her mind. There was no wand for her, but with the close contact between her and Riddle, there was a chance the simple spell would work.

… and it did. Hermione couldn't believe her luck as she felt her magic rush through her hand and towards Riddle. His black uniform pants caught fire. Hermione resisted the strong urge to call him a ' _Liar, Liar'_. Riddle yelped in surprise and took a step away as the flames licked at him. In an instant, Hermione reacted. Ignoring her pain, she picked herself up from the floor. Her left foot screamed at her in protest as she hastened over to the window in the wall behind her, the door still being magically blocked.

"No, you don't!" Hermione heard Riddle yell furiously.

She didn't turn around and instead flung the window open. She was still in the fifth floor, so jumping was out of the question, but there was a sill running around the castle's outer wall, here and there interrupted by the odd gargoyle. The sill was not very wide but Hermione would find foothold there. A muffled, "Aguamenti," behind her pushed her into action. She climbed out of the window and onto the sill. Instantly a cold wind ripped at her, threatening to push her over the edge. Hermione's fingers tried to find a hold at the castle's outer wall as she quickly pushed herself away from the window. Just a few metres and she would reach the next window, which led into the corridor outside the classroom.

"Diffindo!" Hermione heard Riddle yell.

Luckily he missed but Hermione saw deep gashes in the stone she had been standing just seconds before. Her heart raced in her chest. Then finally she reached the other window.  _Of course it's closed_ , an angry voice yelled in her head. Hermione didn't have any time to spare as another red light rushed by her. Using her elbow, she smashed the window glass. Shards cut her clothes and skin. Reaching in, she found the window catch and hastily opened it. Frantically, she noticed how Riddle had stopped his attacks. He probably was already running through the classroom to reach the corridor. Hermione quickly climbed through the window and stepped down into the abandoned hallway. The door to the classroom was just a few metres away. Hermione did not wait for Riddle to appear. She turned and ran.

A staircase was nearby and she dashed up the stairs. Her steps echoed loudly from Hogwarts' corridor walls as Hermione ran. She didn't dare to stop and see whether Riddle was following or not. She just wanted to get as much distance between them as possible. She hastened down another dark corridor and turned into the next.

"Omph," she groaned as she crashed into something.

She was flung to the floor and winced in pain. The thing she had impacted with grunted and a surge of fear hit Hermione hard. She hadn't run into Riddle, had she?

"Ouch," a male voice moaned. "Watch where you are going."

Hermione's head snapped up. That wasn't Riddle's voice. Relief washed over her as she saw a boy leaning with one hand against the wall while rubbing his chest painfully. He was quite tall with a muscular built and slightly curly, short brown hair. Hermione spotted the red and gold trimmings of his robes and immediately relaxed.

"I- I'm terribly sorry," she stuttered while she tried to get up.

As she used her left foot she hissed in pain and staggered. She was surprised as an arm was wrapped around her waist, steadying her.

"Careful," the boy whispered to her softly.

Hermione raised her head at him. His brown eyes were scanning her, concerned.

"I'm fine," Hermione said cautiously.

"Okay," he replied, not sounding convinced, and let go of her.

Hermione gritted her teeth as her foot smarted again. She apologetically smiled up at him.

"I'm really sorry," Hermione whispered. "You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise as he heard that. Then a radiant smile appeared on his face and he ran a hand through his curly hair.

"Wow," he said amusedly. "Now, I'm really surprised."

Hermione knitted her brow. "Why?"

He smiled mischievously and replied, "Well, that must've been the first time you said something to me without using the words 'idiot' or 'waste of space' with the occasional 'blood traitor' thrown in."

As she heard that, Hermione blushed deeply and cursed Rosalie Black in her head. She quickly averted her gaze from his handsome face and mumbled insecurely,

"Oh. I didn't… I'm sor- …er… I guess it's better I go now."

With that she turned, wanting to leave. As she put her weight on her left foot she hissed in pain and had to grab the wall for support.

"Wait," the boy said.

He stepped beside her and grasped her left upper arm, supporting her.

"Maybe I'm not hurt," he said worriedly. "But you are."

"It's nothing," Hermione replied. "Just a sprained ankle."

"Well, then it's my responsibility to bring you to the Hospital Wing."

Hermione shook her head. "No, that's really not necessary."

After all, Riddle might still be searching for her. She needed to get away. Hide somewhere from him.

"Nonsense," the boy insisted. He gestured at the golden badge at his uniform. "After all I'm a prefect."

Hermione sheepishly peered up at him. Maybe hiding away in the infirmary wasn't so bad an idea.

"Okay," she caved in. "Thank you."

A boyish grin appeared on his face. He really was quite handsome, Hermione decided as she again blushed.

"And once again you didn't insult me," the boy teased her while he led her down the corridor. "Maybe you also hit your head, Black."

She shook her head and smiled up at him. With his help, Hermione quickly reached the Hospital Wing. At least they hadn't run into Riddle. She didn't want that nice Gryffindor boy to be pulled into her problems with the insane monster. Hermione felt a bit saver as they entered the Hospital Wing. Upon their entry, the nurse quickly hurried out of her office and cried as she spotted Hermione,

"What happened?"

"I fell," Hermione mumbled.

"Sit down, sit down." The nurse ushered Hermione over to one of the hospital beds. "Come on, Mr McLaggen, help her."

Hermione's eyes widened as she heard that name. McLaggen? As in  _Cormac_  McLaggen? She threw a surreptitious glance at the boy. He still had his arm draped around her waist and helped her over to the bed. Strange. He didn't seem to be anything like Cormac. Maybe a very  _distant_  relative?

Hermione sat down on the bed and the nurse pulled her wand. "So you fell you say?"

Hermione quickly nodded. "Yeah, I guess I sprained my ankle."

She gestured at her left foot. Hopefully that would discourage the nurse to cast any diagnostic spells on the rest of her body. Hermione was quite sure there were residues of dark magic. She wouldn't know how to explain that. Drawing attention to herself could be very dangerous.

"Only the foot?" The nurse's voice brought her out of her referee.

"Yes," Hermione quickly affirmed. "It's really nothing."

The nurse swiftly waved her wand over the injured foot. Hermione felt a light tickling on her skin.

"It's a hairline crack," the nurse informed after a few seconds. "I'll have it healed in no time."

Relieved, Hermione smiled at the woman, but it was McLaggen who said, "Thank you, Madame Hampard."

The nurse smiled at him and replied, "It's not a problem."

Then she got up and walked over to the medicine cabinet. McLaggen sat down beside Hermione on the bed and said a bit stiffly,

"I'm really sorry you got hurt because of me."

Hermione turned her head and scanned him. He was looking at her with his brown eyes and seemed to really feel bad about the whole thing. Hermione just grinned at him.

"As far as I remember the whole thing was actually my own fault."

With that the smile re-appeared on McLaggen's face. Madame Hampard returned with a potion bottle in her hand. Hermione had to drink it while the nurse send a healing spell at her ankle.

"It's going to take a moment for the potion to take effect," the nurse explained. "It's best you stay here for another fifteen minutes. Then you can go."

"I'll wait with her," McLaggen said promptly. "I'm a prefect, Madame. I'll bring her to her dorm."

Madame Hampard smiled at him. "Okay then, Mr McLaggen. I'll count on you."

McLaggen mock saluted before her. "Yes, ma'am."

Bidding them a good night, the nurse walked back over to her office and left the two students alone.

"So, Black, tell me," McLaggen said conversationally. "What were you doing running around the castle in the middle of the night?"

Hermione looked up at him. "You can call me Rosalie if you want," she suggested timidly.

His eyes lit up as he heard that. "But of course." McLaggen grabbed her hand and, mischievous sparkle in his eyes, brought it up and kissed it lightly. "Pleasure to meet you, Rosalie. Please, do me the honour and call me Tiberius."

Hermione chuckled softly as he grinned at her. What a relief, she decided, to be able to talk to a Gryffindor. All those intrigues and underhanded insinuations in Slytherin house were slowly tiring her.

The smile melted from McLaggen's face and he asked in a suddenly serious voice, "But back to topic. Why were you running around the castle, looking as if the devil himself was after you?"

He continued to eye her in concern. Hermione sighed. She shuddered slightly as she thought about Riddle. It had been a close call, hadn't it? Only narrowly had she managed to escape his wrath. The worst part was that he now knew that something was wrong with Rosalie Black.

"Well," Hermione replied hesitantly. "I was trying to escape Riddle, actually."

McLaggen raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Tom Riddle?"

"Is there another one?" Hermione joked dryly.

He smiled at her lopsidedly. "Not really. But what did he want from you?"

She sighed tiredly and leaned back on her arms. "We had a little… argument."

"Ah, let me guess." McLaggen grinned at her. "He didn't like it very much how you dumped him in front of the entire school."

Hermione blushed. "It wasn't the  _whole_  school."

"No need to feel bad about it, Rosalie. I am actually glad someone finally straightened him out. Was about time."

Hermione giggled. "Yeah, he's quite the conceited prick, isn't he?"

McLaggen laughed loudly. "I think you just nailed his character." Still grinning, he asked her, "If you don't mind me asking, why'd you break up with him?"

"I think it might have been because he's a wanker," Hermione threw him a crooked smile. "I don't know why anyone would spend time with him. The only thing he's got going for himself is his pretty face."

"He's not that good looking," McLaggen butted in, still grinning.

Hermione chuckled softly and lied, "No, he's not."

Cautiously, she moved her foot, seeing if it was already healed. She hissed as pain shot through her ankle.

"Careful," McLaggen advised.

Hermione peered at him. "It's almost healed."

"Just take it easy," the Gryffindor said concernedly. "You haven't told my why you broke up with Riddle. I'm sure his  _wonderful_  character didn't come as a surprise."

"Nah," Hermione sighed. "I think it really started with the Yule Ball."

"Oh?" McLaggen cocked a questioning eyebrow.

"Riddle really had the nerve to  _order_  me to go with him to the stupid ball," Hermione hissed, anger coming back with the memory. "And as I didn't want to, he started to insult me."

The Gryffindor shook his head. "That asshole. That's no way to treat you. You should be glad to be rid of him."

"Oh, believe me, I am," Hermione informed darkly.

Once again, she stretched her leg. The pain in her foot had lessened considerably. Contently, Hermione stood up from the hospital bed and proclaimed,

"All healed."

"It's a miracle." McLaggen exclaimed jokingly. "Let's get you back to your dorm, then."

Hermione nodded and followed him out the infirmary. They had already reached the Grand Staircase as McLaggen spoke again.

"Hm, Rosalie?" he mumbled, suddenly quite nervous. "Now that you got rid of Riddle. Would you like to… er… you know… go to the Yule Ball with me?"

A small smile appeared on Hermione's face. McLaggen still wouldn't dare to meet her eyes. There was even a small adorable blush on his cheeks.

"Hm, with you…?" Hermione mused pensively.

Cautiously, McLaggen peered at her and stuttered, "I know I'm a Gryffindor and you probably wouldn't want to… but… I would be really happy…"

Hermione smiled at him and said, "Yes, I would gladly go with you."

Instantly, McLaggen beamed down at her. "Really? Wow. Again you surprise me." He grinned then and added teasingly, "So, you don't mind that I'm not a slimy snake?"

Hermione pasted a condescending smirk on her face and drawled so arrogantly it would have made Draco Malfoy envious, "Well, I guess I'll have to put up with a noisy lion."

McLaggen stared at her, eyes wide. The vain smirk melted from Hermione's face and she started to laugh. The shock fell from him and he laughed along.

"You are quite the actor, aren't you?" he said between his laughter.

"Helps me to survive." Hermione grinned at him

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for commenting on this fic and giving me kudos. I appreciate it a lot :D


	12. Hand me my Nerd Glasses

The next morning, Hermione sat in the Great Hall having breakfast and didn't really know how to feel about her situation anymore. Her duel with Riddle had changed a lot. Certainly her 'relationship' with the Slytherin was ruined now, wasn't it?  _Yeah, because we were such a happy couple so far._  At the thought Hermione chuckled into her cereals, earning a few raised eyebrows from the other Slytherins. She pointedly ignored them and sipped from her tea.

Still, a horrible feeling of insecurity gnawed at Hermione. She didn't know what to do about her situation. It had progressively worsened and now, after her duel with Riddle, her life would surely become even more complicated. Hermione just felt so tired and exhausted. Could she never escape Riddle? Here or in the future, he just didn't want to leave her alone. Was this how Harry had felt since he entered the magical world?

Her gloomy thoughts didn't brighten at all as Tom Riddle himself stepped into the hall. He looked like always, neat uniform hugging his lithe frame and a few strands of black hair lightly falling into his handsome face. One thing was different, though. As soon as he entered the hall, his frosty blue eyes immediately sought out Hermione. She shuddered and shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of his penetrating gaze. Being the centre of Lord Voldemort's attention wasn't where she wanted to be.

Riddle stalked through the Great Hall and towards the Slytherin table. He didn't even look at Sarah, his new 'girlfriend', who had saved him a seat. Coldly, he ignored the crestfallen look on the girl's face. Riddle had eyes only for Hermione and it made her gulp nervously. His handsome face was covered by an unreadable mask, but he kept Hermione imprisoned in a death glare. She could feel his angry magic bristling around him as Riddle slipped into the seat beside her. Her fingers tightened slightly around the handle of her tea cup. Otherwise, she tried to hide all traces of her unease.

"Good morning, Tom," Hermione said, desperately keeping her voice as casual as possible.

"Indeed," replied Riddle, a sharp undercurrent in his words. "It must be good for you. After all you managed not to fall out of the window and break your neck as you ran from me like a coward."

Hermione felt her own angry magic rear its head as his sinister derision washed over her. Riddle had a talent to infuriate her with only a few words. In a blatant dismissal of his menacing demeanour, Hermione nonchalantly leaned back in her seat and eyed the Slytherin lazily. Fear still tugged at her, but in face of Riddle's scorn annoyance shifted to the forefront of her mind.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione drawled loftily, infusing her voice with sarcasm. "Were you trying to stop me? I had no idea. You seemed to have your hands full with the little Incendio I threw at you." She drowned him in a pitying look. "On behalf of everyone: I'm glad you found new uniform trousers."

After that insolent reply, Hermione could see Riddle's hands balling into fists. Clearly, he was not really used to getting any form of comeback to his nasty comments. Riddle clenched his jaw and she knew he was fighting for composure. In a completely insane way, his fury brought her satisfaction and a mocking grin stretched Hermione's lips. At least she was having just as much of an effect on Riddle as he had on her. The wizard leaned closer to her and hissed into her ear,

"Do you really think you'll get away with this?"

Riddle's eyes burned in a murderous light and Hermione felt her mouth go dry. The Slytherin was way too close. She could almost feel the heat of his body and his pleasant smell filled her nostrils.

"I thought I already did," Hermione scoffed, too stubborn to let him know how unsettled she was by him.

Riddle leaned away from her and Hermione almost sighed with relief as he granted her more space. His chilly voice was a mere whisper but loaded with malice as he informed her,

"I congratulate you, Rosalie." An unsavoury smirk crept on Riddle's face. "You've finally managed to catch my interest. It will be my pleasure to make you spill all your secrets."

He raised a hand and Hermione couldn't help but shudder as he ran a finger over her cheek. The smirk still curved Riddle's lips as he added, "And make no mistake, you  _will_  tell me everything."

Hermione stared up into his starkly blue eyes. This time no cheeky retort came to her. Riddle removed his hand from her and, without another word, stood up and left Hermione sitting at the table. She released a shuddering breath as she watched him walking away from her. There were cold chills darting up and down her spine as his last words echoed through her mind.

With an effort she pulled her eyes away from Riddle's retreating back and with a shaky hand reached for her tea. She took a sip and welcomed how the hot tea warmed her up a bit. With Riddle gone, Hermione tried to untangle her thoughts. She shouldn't be so surprised, she reasoned with herself. After the duel yesterday, she had known she would incur Riddle's curiosity. It couldn't be helped now. She just needed to watch out and not wander the corridors of the castle alone. Hopefully, Dumbledore would be able to send her back to the future soon and this nightmare would be over.

~.~.~

It was during DADA class that Hermione sat in her dorm. For the first time, she was glad that Rosalie didn't attend a lot of classes. At least that left her with a lot of free time. And her first order of business was to acquire a new wand. With Riddle out for her blood, Hermione couldn't afford to run around unarmed.

Cross legged, she sat on her bed and browsed through a wand catalogue.  _Bless the Blacks' fortune_ , she thought as looked at the different wands. It was probably not a good idea to get a wand by owl order, but seeing that Hermione didn't even have her own body, getting a new wand without trying it out should be the least of her problems. She sincerely doubted Riddle would ever return Rosalie's wand. He had probably already burned the thing. At the back of the catalogue, Hermione found a form for wand specifications. She only had to fill in some information, like height and date of birth, and they would send her the most appropriate wand via owl. Hermione smiled happily and reached for her quill.

A half an hour later, Hermione left her dorm. Arithmancy would start shortly and she wanted to send off her order for a new wand before class. So it was after a short detour to the owlery that Hermione finally arrived at the Arithmancy classroom. The other students were already there, waiting for professor Arterbury. Of course, Riddle was there as well. Hermione tried to ignore his steady gaze resting on her and quickly hurried to her table at the back of the classroom.

Just to occupy herself with something, Hermione pulled her Arithmancy textbook, quill and parchment from her bag and arranged everything on her table. A sigh left her at the prospect of yet another class with a professor throwing her looks of pity and resignation. How or why Rosalie Black had managed to sign herself up for Arithmancy, she would never know. Hermione, for one, enjoyed that class, but also knew it was one of the harder classes Hogwarts offered.

Silently, she watched as Professor Arterbury stepped into the classroom. Smile in place, the woman commenced her lecture, diving into the world of Arithmancy. Hermione's fingers tingled with the need to pick up her quill as she followed the class. Once again, Rosalie Black's seat was in the last row. Ignored by both students and the professor, no-one expected her to even stay awake during the class. Hermione knew this and still she couldn't help but attentively listened to Professor Arterbury. There was a dreamy smile on her face as she watched the professor scribble a decidedly interesting problem on the blackboard. The other students around Hermione groaned, but she barely heard them as numbers and runes merrily danced around her head.

"Try to tackle this runic function," Arterbury prompted them. "I know it's rather difficult. I don't expect you to find the solution right away. Just try to get as far as you can."

Hermione sighed blissfully and lovingly copied the runes down on her parchment. There was so much going on in her head – what with her being a time traveller and Voldemort out for her blood – but an arithmantic problem always managed to calm Hermione nicely down. Her mood brightened significantly as she bent over her parchment. Merrily, mind focused on nothing but the problem at hand, Hermione followed the numbers and painted a beautiful solution down on her parchment. Professor Arterbury had been right, the function was delightfully tricky. A smile curled Hermione's lips. That's why she loved Arithmancy so much: However difficult the problem, there always was a solution to everything.

"Who wants to present their approach to the problem?" Arterbury asked after some time had passed and hopefully eyed her students. "Hm. Anyone?"

No-one raised their hand. Most students were still staring down at their parchments in utter confusion. Hermione had to physically restrain herself to not raise her hand herself. She chanced a glance over at Riddle who sat a few seats away. Once again, he had a lethal glare directed at Hermione, probably planning her painful demise. Clearly, he hadn't paid any attention to the class. Contemplatively, Hermione scanned the Slytherin. Riddle was suspecting her now anyway… So it couldn't hurt… Hermione looked back down at her parchment and then at the professor.

_Ah, to hell with it_ , she told herself and raised her hand. Arterbury seemed to be quite taken aback to see Hermione volunteering an answer. The woman cleared her throat and asked, sounding slightly disturbed,

"Yes? Ms Black? Is anything wrong?"

"No." Hermione smiled widely. "I want to try solving the problem, professor."

"Oh. You? S- solving a problem?" The professor stared at her in confusion. Then she nodded hesitantly, still looking unconvinced, "Well then, Ms Black. Please, go ahead."

Hermione felt the other students stare at her, some in mild pity, others in exasperation, clearly thinking this was going to be a waste of their time. She ignored them and, clutching her parchment to her chest, stepped over to the black board. Hermione grabbed the chalk and started to swiftly scribble down numbers and runes while she happily jumped into an explanation,

"You know, this one  _was_  rather tricky. Seeing the runic īsan paired with sōwulō is rather rare. But once you get over their contrasting attributes finding the derivative to this function is not that difficult. I have to admit, though, first I foolishly thought I could take the easy way out and use Wenlock's suggestion of partial derivatives. But we all know, Wenlock's method is quite obsolete when working with the Younger Futhark." Hermione chuckled, amused by that absurd method, while she continued to write on the blackboard. "So, the only solution here is to fall back on Fancourt's differential quotient. Her way to get the slope of the linear approximation is concise and beautiful really …but I digress. Getting back to the runic circle," Hermione gestured at the block of formulas she had painted on the blackboard. "Using Fancourt's advanced method, the answer to this problem is π/2." Hermione laughed fondly and sighed, "Ah, it always is π/2, isn't it?"

Smile still in place, Hermione turned around and looked at the class. She found everyone in the classroom, including Professor Arterbury, stare at her in utter shock. Now feeling rather self-conscious, Hermione nervously fiddled with the chalk.

"T- that… That is… correct." Arterbury stuttered, still looking shell-shocked. "Well done, Ms Black. Very elegant solution. T- take twenty points for Slytherin."

A murmur went through the classroom. Apparently, this was the first time Rosalie ever won her house any points. Hermione blushed as the other students continued to gawk at her in wonder. Riddle's full attention still was on her and even  _his_  eyes were widened in surprise. In a second, though, the surprise was gone and a contemplative look crossed his handsome face. Quickly Hermione hurried to her seat, ducking her head.

"For the rest of you," Arterbury addressed the whole class. "I want you to read up on Fancourt's insights concerning runic circular functions."

With that the professor dismissed her class, but not without smiling proudly at Hermione. Her professor's approval made the ex-Gryffindor grin blissfully as she packed her things and left the classroom. Her world was right again. The other students still stared at her in confusion and surprise. In the end, it was McLaggen who walked over to her. Falling in step beside her, the Gryffindor smiled widely down at her.

"You know," he said blithely. "I've never seen Arterbury give away more than five points at once. That was really a surprise. How did you suddenly know all that?"

Hermione timidly peered up at him. "It wasn't that hard a problem."

"No, it really was. I'm impressed." McLaggen continued smilingly. "I mean I've no idea what exactly you talked about back there. But I think it was genius."

A smile slowly curved Hermione's lips as she was pulled back into the world of Arithmancy. "I know, right?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Fancourt really  _is_  incredible. She does not get nearly enough credit. It's always Wenlock here, Wenlock there. It's a shame, really."

McLaggen blinked at her, then he stated teasingly, "Wow, you're a nerd. What happened; did you hide it until now?"

"Er… Maybe I'm simply… lazy?" Hermione awkwardly grinned up at him. "I mean, just think about it. Your grades really don't matter that much. As long as you pass your NEWTs at the end of seventh year, you're set."

"You really  _are_  a genius, Rosalie," McLaggen announced and fondly patted Hermione's shoulder. "How about you write my next Arithmancy essay? I'll give you five Galleons. Hm?"

Instantly, Hermione frowned at him and said reproachfully, "Cheating's wrong. If I do all the work, you won't learn anything."

McLaggen snorted in laughter. "Okay, okay. But I blame you when I get another D."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. The Gryffindor shrugged carelessly, still grinning. "I've got Quidditch training now. You wanna come and watch?"

Hermione scrunched up her nose in distaste. "Certainly not. But don't worry, I'll be sure to come visit you in the infirmary when you break your neck."

"It's a date then," McLaggen deadpanned.

Big smile on his face, he parted from Hermione and joined a group of Gryffindors. They had obviously waited for him, throwing dark glares at Hermione the whole time she talked with McLaggen. The Gryffindors disappeared down the stairs and Hermione shook her head and, still smiling, continued her way. She had barely managed to walk down the corridor and enter the next as suddenly, out of no-where, a pair of strong hands seized her.

"Ak!" Hermione gasped as she was pulled into a small alcove.

_Really?_ she thought in exasperation as she looked up into a pair of enraged blue eyes. Riddle glowered down at her, holding her tightly by her arms.

"For fear of sounding clichéd," Hermione said, squirming in his arms. "but if you don't let go, I'm going to scream."

Riddle didn't react and also didn't release his tight grip on her arms. Instead he hissed menacingly, "What were you doing with McLaggen?"

Hermione furrowed her brow at him. "Not that it's any of your business, but we were talking."

The look on Riddle's face darkened considerably as he heard it. Hermione, for one, was fed up by his threatening behaviour. Angrily she tugged at his hands, trying to make him release her.

"Seriously, Tom," she snapped at him. "Let go or I'm going to kick you. Last warning."

Hermione felt a bit braver in confronting him here than in the dark classroom he had attacked her in. After all, they stood in a corridor that was frequently used. A student might walk by any minute. Whatever Riddle planned, he at least couldn't really attack her. Still, instead of releasing her, the Slytherin pulled Hermione even closer against himself. She gasped softly as she had to lean into his chest. Angry frown on her face, Hermione looked up at Riddle. He was decidedly unimpressed and instead demanded to know sharply,

"What happened to you? Where did you learn how to duel?"

Hermione wasn't in the mood to be interrogated and angrily tugged at his grip on her. Riddle shook her slightly and snapped,

"How could  _you_  solve a problem in Arithmancy?"

Despite the murderous glint smouldering in Riddle's eyes, Hermione rolled her eyes at him. Then she scoffed, "Oh, poor Tom. Was it too difficult for you? You know, if you weren't such a jerk, I might have tutored you."

As expected, Riddle growled furiously, hands tightening around Hermione. She provokingly smirked up at him, content that she managed to hit him where it hurt.

"You… You're…" he irately hissed at her through gritted teeth.

Hermione raised her eyebrows mockingly. "What now? Can't articulate yourself? Maybe you should really try to find yourself a tutor."

Riddle glared at her so darkly, Hermione thought he was going to slap her. She already prepared herself to kick him and if need be bite his hand. Whatever went through Riddle's head, though, he somehow decided against violence. Instead, he abruptly bent down to her. Hermione gasped softly as he pulled her even closer. Then she felt something press against her mouth. Shock reigned as she realized it were Riddle's lips that covered her own. For a tiny moment, she didn't do anything but let him kiss her demandingly as if he were laying some sort of claim. Riddle's hands were on her waist, holding her tightly, while his lips moved against hers with a hunger that wanted to consume her. Later Hermione would claim temporary insanity for not immediately pushing him away, but  _damn_  Riddle could kiss.

It was as Riddle moaned softly and pressed himself closer against her that Hermione finally regained her mental capacities. She raised a hand and let her fingers bury themselves in Riddle's silky soft hair.

Then she  _pulled_.

Riddle hissed in surprise and pain as his head was forced away from her. He even stumbled a step away to regain his balance. With wide eyes he stared down at her with the same look of horror that was probably visible on her own face.

"What the  _hell_ , Riddle?!" Hermione snarled furiously.

Instead of replying anything he raised a hand and skimmed with his fingers over his mouth. There was shock painted all over his face. At least that told her he hadn't somehow planned the whole thing which was a relief. Hermione would have mocked him for the stupid look on his face, but she was having a mental breakdown of her own.

_I kissed Lord Voldemort. And I'm still alive. It… it wasn't even half bad. Actually, he's a pretty good kisser. …I'm going straight to hell for this._

It took Riddle a moment to gather his thoughts. In the end, he glared at her with a thunderous expression on his face, just as if  _she_  had molested  _him_  and not the other way around. Angry frown furrowing his brow, he pushed Hermione out of his way and snapped,

"This changes nothing!"

Without waiting for a reaction, Riddle furiously stomped down the corridor, away from her. Hermione, still feeling unbalanced by the proceedings, dumbly stared at his retreating back.

"Like hell this changes nothing!" she yelled after him. It didn't make any sense, but she wanted to have the last word.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and thanks for the comment on last chapter, Narcissa ^^


	13. I don't know what to wear

Hermione sat in potions and listened to Slughorn's lecture. Venoms were certainly an incredibly interesting subject. Sadly, Hermione's enthusiasm for Slughorn's lecture was marred by her seat mate. She peered at Riddle through the corners of her eyes and shuddered inwardly. Looking as handsome as ever, he sat beside Hermione and seemingly paid utmost attention to professor Slughorn.

Hermione scrunched up her face in distaste and was hit by the strong urge to slap the arrogant Slytherin. She just couldn't get over how Riddle had dared to force that kiss from her. It was as disgusting as it was terrifying. One thing was sure: From now on, she would stay as far away from Riddle as possible. Even now, she had moved her chair to the far end of the table. The wizard was simply  _insane_  and she wanted nothing to do with him.

"Now," Slughorn boomed. "Who can give me a list of the most venomous magical creatures?"

A dark scowl appeared on Hermione's face as it was –  _of course_ – Riddle who volunteered the answer. Annoyance seethed in the pit of her stomach as she had to listen to his silky, smooth,  _annoying_  voice. As Riddle was finished, Slughorn praised exuberantly,

"Very good, Tom. You're quite right, like always. Take ten points for Slytherin, m'boy."

Riddle smiled at the professor innocently, expertly hiding his insidious mannerisms, and Hermione's fingers angrily tightened around her quill.

"Thank you, professor," Riddle replied blandly. "You're too kind."

The fake humility in his words was simply intolerable. Unlike during that one Arithmancy class, it wasn't the academic challenge that now made Hermione raise her hand. No, it was the pure wish to outdo Riddle and wipe that arrogant look from his face. Professor Slughorn eyed Hermione's raised hand and didn't seem to quite know what to do with it.

"Yes… Ms Black?"

Hermione smiled at the professor politely and said, "I have to disagree with Mr Riddle."

Slughorn blinked at her in surprise. "Indeed? Could you elaborate?"

"Certainly," Hermione allowed. "You see, Professor, I don't want to say that Tom is  _wrong_  per se." She sent a decidedly fake smile at the Slytherin in question. " _But_  his explanation was incomplete. Of course it  _is_  true that Dragons and other members of their family, like the Basilisk or Cockatrice,  _do_  produce a highly lethal venom and they  _are_  classified among the most dangerous beasts. Still, in regards to  _solely_  their toxicity they should not be ranged at the top of that list."

Hermione could see an angry glint burning up in Riddle's blue eyes as she criticised him. A smug feeling accompanied her words as she jumped into a longer explanation, "For example, have a look at the Lobalug. It's an aquatic creature found at the bottom of the North Sea. At first glance, Lobalugs are indeed rather unremarkable and gentle beasts. Resembling a sea cucumber, they are rather slow and mostly don't move around a lot. Due to their habitat and their behaviour, these magical creatures are rarely seen and thus are not as dangerous to humans as, for example, a dragon."

Hermione couldn't help but throw a triumphant grin at Riddle as she continued, "Still the toxin produced by a Lobalug can easily be ranged as one of the most lethal ones on this planet. It is an extremely potent neurotoxin that attacks the vagal regulation of the heart rate as well as both the central and peripheral nervous system. By binding to the voltage-gated sodium channels of nerve membranes, the toxin prevents a sodium diffusion and thus renders the nerves unable to conduct messages. This causes paralysis – including respiratory paralysis – and eventually death." Hermione took in a deep breath before she concluded, "Half a milligram of this toxin is already enough to kill a person. Whereas Dragons  _might_  be classified has highly dangerous, their most lethal weapons still remain to be their fangs and their fire,  _not_  their venom."

Content with her lecture, Hermione leaned comfortably back in her chair and smiled. Her talk was followed by a few seconds of complete silence. Professor Slughorn and the other students openly gawked at her as if she herself had suddenly turned into a dragon. The smug feeling, though, rapidly drained from Hermione as she dared a look at Riddle. She had expected – even _wanted_  – to provoke anger in the haughty Slytherin. It was in trepidation that Hermione now found not the expected fury on Riddle's face, instead a strange  _hungry_  sheen destructively smouldered in his blue eyes as he gazed at her. Hermione shuddered involuntarily. It was Slughorn who pulled everyone out of their state of shock by clapping his hands in excitement.

"Oh-ho.  _Oh-ho!_ " He cried loudly. "Ms Black, you are absolutely right. What a wonderfully insightful contribution. 15 well-earned points to Slytherin."

Hermione blushed under the teacher's praise that she had sorely missed for so long and softly thanked Slughorn. For the rest of the class, she never dared to throw another look at Riddle. The expression on his face had deeply unsettled her.

~.~.~

For the next few days, Hermione honed her evading skills. Thus far, she had been quite successful in eluding Riddle. By now, it was quite obvious that he knew something was wrong with her and Hermione was not going to encourage his suspicions by talking with him.

Sighing softly, she tried to steer her thoughts away from Riddle, pulled her thick winter cloak tighter around herself and adjusted her hold on her book. Despite the cold, she perched on one of the benches in the small courtyard beside the Great Hall. The hordes of over-excited students had driven Hermione outside. The whole castle buzzed with the last preparations for the Yule Ball that would take place this very same evening.

Hermione was happy with the day so far. Her fingers absentmindedly skimmed over the birch wood wand in her pocket. It felt smooth and reassuring. She had been quite excited as finally the parcel from Ollivander's had arrived. The birch wand was a more than adequate replacement for Rosalie's wand which hadn't worked that well to begin with. Right at this moment, Hermione would have loved to put her new wand to good use and cast a Silencing Spell on her annoying dorm mate. For whatever reasons, Sarah had followed her outside and proceeded to pour words into her ears when all Hermione wanted was to read her book in peace.

"I'm  _sooo_  sorry, Rosalie." Sarah exclaimed, fake pity not able to hide the amused glint in her eyes. "I know you planned to go with Tom. It's a shame."

"Hm-hm," Hermione hummed, trying to tune out Sarah's chatter.

The girl couldn't take the hint, though. Sarah slid a bit closer to Hermione and scanned her with wide eyes. "What are you going to do now?"

Hermione looked up from her book and furrowed her brow. "About what?"

The Slytherin shook her head. "The ball, of course. The Yule Ball is  _today_. Are you not going at all?"

"No," Hermione replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I  _am_  going. Seems to be a big thing."

"Oh, you're so  _brave_ ," the other girl exclaimed. "Going all on your own."

And as if Sarah wasn't bad enough, Hermione's heart sank as she saw Riddle walking towards them. At least they were out in the open. The evil git couldn't risk attacking her here.

"Tom," Sarah cried and waved her hand.

Hermione's level of irritation rose a few notches as Riddle, smirk in place, sat down beside them. Sarah instantly wrapped around him like a starved-out anaconda and placed a kiss on his cheek. Hermione felt the sudden urge to pull the girl away from Riddle. Maybe Sarah was an annoying snake, but she didn't deserve this cruel fate.

"Hello, Rosalie," Riddle said, looking quite self-satisfied as he groped Sarah.

Hermione snorted and angrily turned the page of her book, intently ignoring the lewd display of the two Slytherins. She crinkled her nose in disgust. Had she really allowed Riddle to kiss her with that very same mouth?

"Why don't you get yourselves a room?" she mumbled irately.

Riddle cocked an eyebrow at her and asked smugly, "Are you jealous?"

Hermione heard Sarah giggle inanely and huffed, "Jealous? Ha, don't make me laugh, Riddle."

She hesitated shortly as she saw a strange, almost sullen look crossing Riddle's face. Hermione sneered at him. Was he disappointed, because his nasty comments didn't work on her anymore? The look was gone in a second and now fake pity swam in Riddle's eyes.

"I am so sorry we broke up, Rosalie. But you know why we  _had_  to."

Hermione could feel her left eye twitching with an angry spasm. Still, she somehow was curious where the git was going with this. So, she replied, voice sweet as honey,

"It's because you're not mature enough to be in a  _real_  relationship, isn't it?"

Riddle smiled a wide honest smile, that was sickeningly fake. Then he replied innocently, "If only that were true. I suppose it would make things easier for you." Pityingly, he rubbed her arm and continued in a horribly understanding voice, "I'm sorry, but it's just not right to  _be into_  Inferi as much as you are, Rosalie."

Sarah shrieked in shock, holding a hand over her mouth. Hermione's face darkened with fury while Riddle's honest smile morphed into a nasty smirk.

"Oh Merlin," Sarah cried in horror. "That's just vile!"

Hermione completely ignored the blonde's indignation, but continued to glower at Riddle's smug face, fingers bent claw-like as if she wished to scratch his eyes out.

"You know," Hermione said in a disturbingly soft voice. "If you don't stop your bullshit, I'm going to murder you and leave your dead body for the Threstrals to feast upon. Just to prove a point."

Sarah gasped in shock as she heard that, but Riddle simply smirked, nasty amusement swirling in his eyes.

"Rosalie!" Sarah exclaimed in outrage. "You can't speak to Tom like that. W- what is  _wrong_  with you?!"

Coldly, Hermione eyed the girl, before she said, "Nothing is wrong with me. But your dear boyfriend should watch what he's saying or I can't be held responsible for my actions."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief and ran a soothing hand over Tom's shoulder.

"Don't listen to her," the blonde tried to calm her boyfriend. "Just be glad that you got rid of her."

Riddle seriously managed to paste a look of worry and gratitude on his face as he bravely smiled down at Sarah. Hermione could still see the sick amusement glinting in his eyes. Riddle then bent down to his girlfriend and kissed her chastely on the lips. Promptly, Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust as Riddle murmured against Sarah's lips,

"I'm so glad I have you."

As he ended the kiss there was nothing but adoration on Sarah's face. Hermione couldn't help but inform Riddle dryly,

"You're one sick bastard."

Once again, Sarah screeched in outrage and Riddle poorly hid a vile smirk. Hermione for one had had enough of this disgusting display. Throwing Riddle a withering glare, she collected her books, got up and walked away.

"See you at the ball, Rosalie," Riddle called after her, scorn wrapped around his words. "I'll save a dance for you."

Irritation seething inside of her, Hermione stomped into the castle and left the two love-birds alone. Riddle was  _horrible_. Even if he weren't an evil dark wizard, he would still be insufferable. Anger swirling inside of her, Hermione trekked down to the dungeons. She sighed in relief as she found her dorm empty. Gracelessly, she flopped down on her bed and rolled onto her side, her back the door.

She really missed her four-poster bed in Gryffindor. The dark, dreary Slytherin colours really didn't help to lighten her mood. As she closed her eyes Riddle's handsome face spooked through her thoughts, the smirk on his face mocking her. Hermione groaned and curled up in a tight ball. As if that wasn't bad enough already, she could hear the door being opened. Hermione gritted her teeth angrily.  _Of course_ , Sarah would follow her. Lately it seemed the girl's new hobby was to haul veiled insults at Hermione.

"You know," Hermione snapped at Sarah without looking up. "I'm really not in the mood for you. Just get away from me."

As the expected angry screech didn't immediately follow, Hermione looked up. Her eyes widened in shock as she found Gamp standing in the doorway. The girl's eyes were trained on Hermione and were blazing with hate.

"Oh no," Hermione whispered shakily. "I didn't… didn't mean-"

Angry frown still on her face, Gamp wordlessly turned around and left the dorm, slamming the door shut behind her.

"-you," Hermione lamely finished her sentence.

 _Oh Merlin, you're so stupid, Hermione_ , she chastised herself. Sighing tiredly, she let herself fall back down on her bed. It seemed she had just no luck dealing with any Slytherin today.

~.~.~

It was a few hours later that Hermione left her dorm again. She was all dressed up for the ball and actually felt quite good in Rosalie's dress. It was the first time Hermione could really appreciate Rosalie Black. The Yule Ball was just around the corner, but instead of frantically wondering what she should wear Rosalie had taken care of that months ago. Some time back while scouring Rosalie's wardrobe, Hermione had found a clothes bag on the rail. Inside the bag had been a beautiful dark red dress. It obviously had never been worn before and the price tag had made Hermione gasp for air.

The dress fit like a second skin. It really looked good on Rosalie's body. Hermione adored how the fabric fell around her, the silk playing around her ankles. The dress might be a bit revealing with the low-cut back and the amount of cleavage visible, but hell who was Hermione to judge? The dress was beautiful and she certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The high-heeled shoes going with the dress were a horror to wear, but were so beautiful that she simply couldn't leave them behind.

Now that Hermione walked to the Great Hall, she was almost looking forward to the Yule Ball. At the very least, this time around she hadn't needed five bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to make her hair look half-way decent. Hermione smiled as she spotted McLaggen waiting for her at the grand staircase, leaning against the banister. Quickly she walked over to him and tipped him on the shoulder. McLaggen turned around to her. He blinked and stared at her for a moment, before a huge smile took form on his face and he mumbled,

"Rosalie… You look really nice."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Thank you. You look good, too."

McLaggen's dazed smile turned into a grin and he offered her his arm. As she accepted it, he gestured at her dress and said teasingly,

"I like the colour. Red, huh? Now you only need something golden and you could be a Gryffindor."

Hermione laughed. It hurt a bit how close he was to the truth. Grinning mischievously up at him, she pulled her brand-new wand. With a casual flick, a golden necklace and golden armlets appeared on her body. They were nothing but projections without any substance, but they would hold through the ball.

"Nice," McLaggen commented smilingly. "But what are your house mates gonna say?"

Hermione shrugged dismissively. "I decided to stop caring."

"Ah well," the Gryffindor conceded. "School year's almost over anyway."

She glared at him reproachfully. "It's only December, you know. There's still a good six months left."

"Bah." McLaggen grimaced. "If only NEWTs were already over."

"There is no reason to be afraid if you study sufficiently," Hermione lectured him sternly.

"Nerd," McLaggen accused, disguising it with a cough.

Hermione rolled her eyes. They had reached the Great Hall by now. Grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth, McLaggen led Hermione into the hall. It was already quite crowded, music floating through the air. As they entered, Hermione noticed a lot of staring and whispering. She would have liked to think it was because McLaggen and her were such a stunningly beautiful pair, but she wasn't going to lie to herself.

Most of the stares came from the Slytherin and Gryffindor students and they were far from being admiring. Hermione got a glimpse of Malfoy glaring daggers at her, very obviously not impressed by her Gryffindor date. The blond angrily huffed something at his own date who glared at Hermione as if she had just betrayed the whole house of Slytherin. The Gryffindor students, on the other hand, threw angry looks at McLaggen who had probably ruined his reputation by bringing a snake to the ball. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"This is awkward," McLaggen whispered into her ear.

Hermione glanced up at him. Amusement glinted in his eyes and she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"By the end of the night, we'll be tarred and feathered and chased from the castle."

McLaggen laughed at that. "You're a Slytherin. I'm sure you can talk us out of it."

Hermione smirked at him and replied dryly, "Honey, not even I'm that good."

A slight blush dusted McLaggen's face at the nickname, but he still returned her grin. Then he put his hand on the small of her back and led her away from the nasty looks and the centre of attention.

"Do you wanna drink something?" the Gryffindor asked.

"Yes, please," Hermione immediately breathed. "Lots."

McLaggen nodded and disappeared into the throng of people. Hermione didn't have to stand around alone for long. Soon, Betty popped by.

"Well, look at you," the girl said. "Bringing a Gryffindor to the ball. Risky." She grinned widely. "I like it."

Hermione cocked her eyebrows at her roommate. "Seriously? I didn't think you'd approve. Actually, I didn't think anyone, aside from maybe the odd Hufflepuff, would approve."

Betty sipped from her glass of… it looked like  _wine_ , but Hermione was pretty sure they didn't give out wine at school balls.

"Still, better than my date," Betty admitted freely. "Goyle. My mother said I should. You know Goyle's mother is member of the Wizengamot. Can't hurt to have connections like that, hm?"

Hermione stupidly nodded along. Betty grinned impishly and allowed, "You know, I don't think Riddle approves of your date, but that's what you've been aiming for, isn't it?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "W- what?"

Betty laughed and patted Hermione's shoulder. "Don't play innocent. I know you well enough." She nodded towards one corner of the room and said, "He does not look amused, does he?"

Hermione followed her gaze and spotted Tom Riddle sitting at one of the small round tables. She had to admit he looked quite smart in his black dress robes. Riddle truly was a very handsome young man. Sarah, clothed in a beautiful green silk dress, sat beside him and sported a rather sour look. Riddle didn't pay his date any attention. Instead his eyes were trained on Hermione. A fat scowl on his pale face, he glowered at Hermione while his blue eyes glinted with irritation. Hermione huffed and pulled a face at him.

"What's his problem?" she snapped heatedly, turning her head away from Riddle. "What I do is none of his business."

Her anger made Betty laugh and suggest, "The heated looks he's been sending you make it quite clear what exactly he wants from you."

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed in indignation. " _Heated_  looks? Are you crazy?"

She defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her eyes fleetingly strayed to Riddle again and she shuddered as she found his hard gaze still trained on her.  _Heated looks_ , Hermione snorted inwardly.  _As if._  Murderous looks would be a better description.

Betty shrugged lightly and took another sip from her glass. "Well, you know him better than I do. But I'd say you should warn your sweetheart or Riddle will catch him and curse the living daylights out of him."

Hermione scowled. "Why would he do  _that_?"

"You are a blast, Rosalie," Betty laughed at her frustration. "Oh look, there's my date. Duty calls. See you later."

With that the girl disappeared and left Hermione standing alone. Uncomfortably, she noted how Riddle still insisted on staring at her.  _What a creep!_ Hermione was very glad as McLaggen returned and distracted her from all this Slytherin insanity.

"Thanks," Hermione said as she accepted a glass from McLaggen.

She nipped from it and realized that it indeed was wine. Normally, Hermione would be scandalized by someone giving out wine at a school party, but today she really needed it.

"Slow down," McLaggen laughed as she took another gulp from her wine. "Wanna sit down?"

Hermione nodded and followed him to one of the round tables. It was very convenient that now Riddle's line of sight was interrupted by the people on the dance floor. Feeling a bit safer now, Hermione fell in easy conversation with McLaggen.

"What cha gonna do after NEWTs?" the Gryffindor asked her cheerfully.

Hermione pursed her lips in contemplation. If a certain stupid Dark Lord hadn't decided to spoil everything for everyone, she would have known what to answer. Now though…

"I'm not quite sure yet," Hermione replied honestly. She peered up at McLaggen. "What about you?"

"Uh, my family owns a stud farm," McLaggen told her. "We breed winged horses, mostly Aethonans and Granians. Though, my mum claims there's a Threstral in one of the paddocks, but I can't see shit. So, who knows." A grin stretched his lips. "Anyway, I'm gonna take over one day."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "So, horse breeding, hm?"

McLaggen nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. It's great. Why'd you think I still take Care of Magical Creatures when Kettleburn is obviously trying to kill us all?"

"He's not trying to kill us," she chided.

"Yeah, really?" was his sarcastic reply. "Then why'd he bring a Kelpie to last class?"

Hermione furrowed a brow as she remembered that ominous class. "Yeah… that really  _was_  a bit… er…"

"Irresponsible is the word you're searching," the Gryffindor helped out, smiling brightly.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Well, at least no-one died, did they?"

"Sheer luck."

"You sound a bit disappointed there," Hermione commented amusedly.

And so they continued. Hermione found that McLaggen was incredibly easy to talk to. He was quite likable, in contrast to _Cormac_  McLaggen, and Hermione didn't have to carefully watch what she was saying around him. This only proved that she really didn't belong in Slytherin.

They had talked for a while when the two of them were joined by some of McLaggen's friends. Hermione stiffened a bit as the girl and her date sat at their table. Instantly, the Gryffindor couple sent her suspicious and downright hostile glances. Even McLaggen seemed a tad nervous as he smiled at his friends.

"Hey, guys," he greeted them. "How's it going?"

The Gryffindor girl sported a stern look that reminded Hermione of McGonagall. She turned to McLaggen and sniped belligerently,

"I don't know. Why don't  _you_  tell us?"

"Erm… Pretty- pretty well," McLaggen stuttered, shifting nervously. "Isn't it? Rosalie?"

Now the girl's heavy stare was directed at Hermione. Feeling quite uncomfortable under the scrutiny, she replied weakly, "Yes. It's really a … _nice_  ball so far."

The girl still glared at her unwaveringly. It was a bit creepy actually. McLaggen sighed loudly.

"Oh, come  _on_ , Augusta. Don't go all crazy on Rosalie."

The glaring girl, Augusta, just sneered at McLaggen. The boy sitting beside her stated sourly as if it explained everything,

"She's a  _Slytherin_."

McLaggen widened his eyes in faux surprise. "No, Andy!  _Really_?! I- I hadn't noticed."

Neither Andy nor Augusta looked impressed at all. Augusta narrowed her eyes at McLaggen and inquired, "Why didn't you ask Thelma Wood to the ball? She likes you. She's really nice and would have been more than just a…" She threw a short glare at Hermione. "shallow, irrelevant  _fling_."

Hermione furrowed her brow and said wryly, "You know I'm sitting right here? I can hear you."

Augusta just shrugged her shoulders unapologetically. Then she proceeded to completely block out Hermione's existence and jumped into a conversation about their last Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Hermione sat at the table, feeling like the fifth wheel, as the three Gryffindors talked about their latest Quidditch tactics. At least McLaggen tried to include her into the conversation. Smiling at her, he inquired,

"What do  _you_  think, Rosalie? Who's going to win the Quidditch Cup this year?"

Hermione smiled at him gratefully and replied, "I really don't know. I admit, I don't follow the matches that closely."

Augusta sniffed at her haughtily and scoffed, " _Of course_  you wouldn't know anything about Quidditch. Pff, what? Scared you might break a nail should you ever dare hop on a broom? Or are you just confused? Can't figure out what's the front and the tail end of a broom?"

By now, Hermione had had enough of the scornful insults. She threw Augusta a decidedly friendly smile and said, "Did you know that traumatic brain injury, for example caused by a bludger, can induce massive damage to a neuron's axon? Diffuse axonal injury often leads to functional and psychological deficits."

"Axonal… what?" Augusta narrowed her eyes in irritation. "What are you even talking about?"

The smile on Hermione's face got sharper as she added, "Just a friendly reminder. Before  _you_  'hop on a broom' you should ask yourself whether you can really afford to lose any brain cells."

Huffing in indignation, the Gryffindor asked incredulously, "Are  _you_  calling  _me_  stupid?!"

Hermione shrugged carelessly and took a sip form her wine. "Ever heard of the story about glass houses and stones?"

Augusta blinked at Hermione owlishly as the veiled insult slowly sunk in. Hermione was fully prepared for Augusta yelling at her in anger. So, she was put slightly off balance as slowly the dark glare melted away and a big smile formed on Augusta's face.

"I like you." Augusta finally stated. Then she turned to the other two Gryffindors and repeated, "I really like her."

And with that, it seemed, Hermione had broken the ice. The Gryffindors lost their stiff and unwelcoming behaviour. Happily they included Hermione into their conversations. McLaggen beamed widely, obviously glad that he wasn't going to get lynched after all, and Hermione was in an equally elated mood.

With how happy she was at that moment, Hermione should have known that it wouldn't last. Sure enough, a cold voice brusquely interrupted her,

"Rosalie?"

Hermione looked up and could barely suppress an annoyed growl. Riddle had appeared by her side. His face was a blank mask, showing absolutely no emotion as his cold eyes wandered over the Gryffindors before they got stuck on Hermione. His voice was equally void of emotion as he said,

"A word."

Without waiting for her reply, Riddle rudely grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. Hermione stumbled after him, her high-heels scraping over the floor. The Slytherin didn't care at all and pulled her towards a relatively quiet corner. Hermione irritably brushed the crinkles from her dress and glared at Riddle.

"What is it now?" she inquired testily. "If you try to snog me again, I swear by Merlin I will hex you, Tom."

"As if I would want to get anywhere near you," the Slytherin sneered.

A scornful smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Just keep telling yourself that. We both know  _you're_  the one who can't keep his hands to himself." Her only answer was a lethal glare, so Hermione questioned impatiently, " _What_  do you want, Tom?"

At her flippant tone, anger erupted on in Riddle's face and he snapped, "Don't get cocky with me, Rosalie. I promise you'll regret it."

Hermione felt her heart skip a few panicked beats at the threat. She ignored it and snapped, "The only thing I regret is that I already wasted so much time on you."

"Watch how you speak with me. I'm still your better," Riddle hissed menacingly. "You think you wave your wand around a bit and parrot a few semi-smart answers in class and I'll be impressed?"

"Pff, certainly seems like it," Hermione bristled. "Or why did you feel the need to accost me?  _Again?_ "

As Riddle didn't seem to want to deign that with a reply she sniffed indignantly, "If that's all, I'll go back to people I  _actually_ want to spend time with."

With that Hermione wanted to walk back to McLaggen. Riddle stopped her by harshly grabbing her arm. His dark magic rippled in the air, furiously clawing at Hermione. The wizard glared down at her, a baleful sheen in his cold eyes. Obviously, Hermione had managed to push his temper to the boiling point. She looked up at him with huge eyes. Why was he suddenly so angry?

Riddle's fingers painfully bit into her skin as he inquired commandingly, "Why are you straying around a  _Gryffindor_  like a cat in heat?"

Despite the fear mounting up in her, Hermione refused to just take Riddle's verbal abuse. Cocking her eyebrows at him, she retorted dryly,

"You're ridiculous."

Of course, that little statement did little to calm Riddle down. Through gritted teeth, the Slytherin pressed out, "Have you no shame?"

Hermione snorted in disbelief. "That's rich, coming from you."

For a moment, Riddle just glared at her murderously and Hermione wondered if she should run for cover. Finally, he opened his mouth and there was cruel derision leaking from his voice as he hissed,

"Well then, run back to your little Gryffindor. By the way, compliment on your dress. Fits you very well. I'm sure McLaggen is simply  _ecstatic_. Now, you also look like the harlot you really are."

Hermione's eyes widened at the insult. She couldn't help it, but suddenly she felt incredibly uncomfortable in her red dress. Feeling painfully insecure, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. To her utter annoyance, her eyes tingled dangerously. Biting the inner side of her cheek hard, Hermione blinked the tears away.

"What?" Riddle scoffed at her. "Can't take the truth? After all you  _did_  sleep with all the Slytherin boys from fifth year and up. What now? Starting with the Gryffindors?"

Hermione stared at him. An evil smirk tugged at his mouth as Riddle sneered down at her, obviously feeling triumphant now that he had managed to hit her.

"No witty comeback?"

Hermione pressed her mouth into a thin line. Even if she really had slept with every person in this castle, this was none of Riddle's business.

"No," she replied curtly. "If you excuse me."

Without waiting for his reaction she stalked away, head held high. Riddle's eyes followed her process through the hall. Anger still clung to his handsome features but the triumph disappeared as he watched Hermione re-joining the group of Gryffindors, McLaggen beaming widely.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots and lots of thanks for the kudos. And thank you for commenting, Narcissa, pansy potter, Bellatrix and l. Your kind words really helped me to pull through with the new chapter :)


	14. Where’s my damn Glass Slipper?

"How you've pulled Augusta on your side," McLaggen said as held Hermione gently while leading her over the dance floor. "was brilliant."

"Augusta's a bit… gruff," Hermione conceded. "But nice, really."

McLaggen ginned down at her before he spun her around. "She doesn't like Slytherins much." He pursed his lips in contemplation before he added, "…or people in general. But yeah, she's got a soft heart deep,  _deep_  down. A bit like you, really."

He winked at her and Hermione smiled at him brightly. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was to talk with Gryffindors. Even dancing with McLaggen was fun, although Hermione wasn't really that much of a dancer. It was as the song ended and the tunes of the next one started to play as their moment was rudely interrupted,

"If I may cut in."

McLaggen and Hermione both turned their heads, just to find Tom Riddle standing beside them. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust while McLaggen scanned the Slytherin in mild curiosity. Riddle just looked at the other boy expectantly. After a moment of awkward silence, McLaggen cleared his throat and said,

"Fine."

He reluctantly let go of Hermione and stepped away. Evil smirk in place, Riddle took his place. He grabbed her right hand with his left, put his other hand on her waist and sharply pulled her against him. Hermione felt quite uncomfortable as she had to lean into his chest. Then Riddle started to slowly move her over the dance floor. Although she was really suspicious of his intentions, Hermione couldn't help but be surprised. The evil Dark Lord knew how to dance? Disgruntled by that fact, Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"I thought I was a harlot, Riddle," she chirped up at him, fake smile in place. "You need to watch out, lest I'll charge you for the service."

Riddle smirked at her and replied mockingly, "You know, I have a spare three sickles. I'm sure that's enough for your  _full_  attention."

The fake smile dropped from her face and Hermione openly glared at him. It only made him laugh annoyingly. Riddle spun her around. Hermione gasped and had to tighten her grip on his shoulder to not lose her balance.

"Stop that," she hissed at him.

He still smirked down at her but by now there was a dangerous streak in that smile of his. "Rosalie, it is very unwise trying to order me around."

Hermione gulped nervously.  _Time to go_ , she decided and wanted to pull away from Riddle. He refused to let her go.

"Not so fast," Riddle said, sounding like chiding a small child.

Hermione gritted her teeth in anger. "Why do you keep bothering me?"

She winced as he tightened his grip on her. He nearly crushed her right hand in his while his other achingly grabbed her waist. She was pretty sure she would find bruises later. Despite his borderline violent actions, Riddle's face was void of all emotion as he calmly gazed down at her. Hermione shuddered under his scrutiny but still jutted her chin out in defiance. After a moment of pondering her, Riddle admitted, his voice civil but for a cold edge,

"I don't quite understand you, Rosalie. And I'm not sure yet if you're worth the trouble of figuring you out."

"Then maybe you shouldn't try," Hermione replied snippily, irritation lacing her tone. "Don't you have a new girlfriend? How about you go and be a pain in  _her_  neck?"

Riddle spun her around, gracefully following the music. A devious smirk curved his lips and he mused, "Sarah is not that much of a puzzle. Though quite  _pleasing_  in her own ways."

Hermione crinkled her nose in disgust at the innuendo. "Ew, I didn't need to hear that."

Riddle's ice blue eyes narrowed and he inquired suspiciously, "Why so coy suddenly? Because now you have  _McLaggen_  satisfying your needs?"

Hermione didn't immediately reply, confused by his line of questioning. Where was he trying to go? At her continued silence a sinister red sheen appeared in Riddle's cold eyes. Hermione swallowed nervously as she felt traces of his dark magic in the air. Derision was masking her upcoming fear as she sneered,

"I'm not like  _you_. You're using Sarah because you can't stand people thinking that the great Tom Riddle got dumped. It's pathetic. Do you really need a trophy girlfriend to boost your ego?"

Riddle's violent magic tensed slightly as if poising to attack. For a few steps he led Hermione over the dance floor in icy silence. Then the dark wizard opened his mouth and warned, tone hard as steel,

"I might like solving puzzles, but you should know that I like  _breaking_  them even more."

Hermione felt her heart racing in her chest, but she was not going to give in to the fear building up in Riddle's presence. If that son of a bitch thought he could intimidate her, then he needed to think again. Hermione schooled her features and leaned a bit closer, making Riddle raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"I'm no puzzle. I'm not hiding anything." Thick scorn dripped from her words as she added, "You know, paranoia can be a sign of something much more severe. Maybe you should go and get yourself checked for crazy."

Hermione felt Riddle tense and a mocking grin took form on her face. Her triumph was short-lived, though. She nearly hissed in pain as Riddle yet again tightened his grip on her hand and waist.

"How dare you?" he whispered tightly.

Fury was blazing in Riddle's eyes but he still managed to maintain the composed façade he had so carefully erected. Looking as if nothing was wrong, he led Hermione smoothly over the dance floor, never missing a beat. A mix of anger and frustration gnawed at Hermione. Determined to put a dent in that poker face of his, she deliberately missed a dance-step. Then Hermione forcefully stepped on Riddle's toes. He yelped in pain as her heel made hard contact with him.

"Oh, I'm  _so_  sorry," Hermione breathed sanctimoniously.

She grinned contently as finally cracks appeared in Riddle's calm façade. His teeth were bared in an angry snarl. Gruffly, he pulled her against him and snarled in her ear,

"I'll make you regret your insolence."

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignored his painfully tight grip on her, and again stepped on his foot.

"Damn," Riddle hissed in pain.

"Ha, serves you right," Hermione scorned.

He glared at her irately, his expression screaming murder. Still, Hermione could see his eyes watering in pain and she laughed at him. Riddle let go of her waist and his hand wandered to his pocket, obviously wanting to pull his wand.

"What now, Tom?" Hermione asked, mock concern in her voice. "Are you planning to curse me? Right here in this room full of people. Oh no. I'm scared. I hope you already packed your stuff, because after this you'll get expelled."

He stopped to pull his wand and put his hand back on her waist. There was a furious expression distorting his handsome face. Hermione supposed she should be scared of him, but she was too enraged herself. They spent the rest of the song in completely silence, glaring at each other through narrowed eyes.

~.~.~

Luckily, after that dancing disaster, Hermione managed to keep away from Riddle for the rest of the ball. At least McLaggen was a joy. Time flew by and Hermione was surprised that it was already almost midnight as she checked her watch. She  _did_  feel rather tired. McLaggen noticed her dropping eyes and offered,

"Let me bring you back to your common room."

Hermione smiled up at him and shook her head. "You don't have to. Besides the others would kill me if they found out I told a Gryffindor where the Slytherin common room is."

He chuckled amusedly as he heard it. "I see. Then let me at least accompany you to the Grand Staircase."

Hermione took his arm, still smiling serenely. They left the Great Hall and walked in direction of the staircase. The corridors were well-lit tonight, so that party-goes might use them until the ball ended officially. That meant Riddle wouldn't be able to attempt another sneak attack and Hermione felt safe for now.

"I hope you had a nice evening, Rosalie," McLaggen said. "Even though you had to spend it with a noisy Gryffindor."

Hermione giggled, squeezing his arm affectionately. "Yes. Surprising though it may be, I really enjoyed myself."

They had nearly reached the staircase as McLaggen asked, "What did Riddle want from you by the way?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him. "I have no idea. He's a crazy person."

He ran a hand through his hair as he scanned her. She raised her eyebrows in question.

"You two get along quite well," he finally commented.

As she heard no sarcasm in his voice, Hermione furrowed her brow. "Certainly not. Didn't you see how we argued?"

"I did. I did," McLaggen mused, still looking at her pensively. "It's just, you two seem to be so familiar with each other." He paused before he asked cautiously, "Are you sure there is nothing between you two anymore."

"Yes," Hermione said indignantly. "Why would I want that git anywhere near me?"

McLaggen shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "He sure seems to like being close to you."

She didn't answer anything but just stared at McLaggen with wide eyes.

"Actually, I've never seen Riddle showing that many emotions," he continued. "He only does that when he's around you."

Hermione shook her head. "Did you also notice that his predominant emotion around me is murderous rage?"

McLaggen chuckled as he heard it. "I would say he's at ease when he's near you."

"At ease?" she asked incredulously. "Sure, if wanting to curse me is 'at ease'. Then yes."

"Riddle's Head Boy." McLaggen shook his head at her as if he thought she was being melodramatic. "He's not just going to curse you, Rosalie."

 _The day Lord Voldemort doesn't want to curse an innocent Muggleborn, hell freezes over._ Wisely, Hermione kept her thoughts to herself. McLaggen considered her for a moment before he said,

"He  _did_  run after you like a puppy tonight, though, didn't he? Maybe he wants you back, but is too shy to tell you."

Hermione furrowed her brow at the misguided Gryffindor. "You know, somehow I  _really_  doubt your theory there. Tom's a lot of things, but certainly not shy."

The Gryffindor grinned at her dry response and said amusedly, "If you say so."

By now they had reached the staircase. McLaggen grabbed her hand and bent down to place a light kiss on it. "It has been a pleasure, my lady."

"The pleasure was all mine," Hermione replied, smiling at him.

"I wish you a good night." Throwing her a charming smile, McLaggen added, "As soon as you're sure that Riddle's not an option for you anymore… we should do this again."

"I'll think about it." Hermione grinned, not bothering to correct McLaggen about the Riddle part.

As she trekked towards the dungeons McLaggen's words circled around her head. Riddle wanting her back?  _Ridiculous_. Hermione shook her head as she remembered how that creep had treated her as they had been together. McLaggen was a nice guy, but he was horribly wrong with his assumption. If he knew that Riddle had thrown the  _Cruciatus Curse_  at her, he wouldn't suggest such things.

Hermione left the staircase and stepped into a dungeon corridor. Displeased, she noticed how it was again so cold down here. Why did she have to end up in Slytherin? Hermione lamented. Why couldn't she have switched bodies with a nice Gryffindor girl. Or Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Everything would have been better than this. Even a Gryffindor  _boy_  would have been better. Hermione's mental rant was interrupted by someone calling her,

"Rosalie."

She stopped and turned around. An annoyed groan left her as she saw none other than Riddle walking towards her. Promptly, Hermione resumed her way towards the common room. Maybe if she ignored him he would just go away. To her immense displeasure, Riddle fell in step beside her. He scanned her from the side before he commented dryly,

"You look rather put out."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wonder why."

"Had a fight with your new boyfriend?" Riddle asked innocently.

She glared at Riddle. "What do you want?"

"Why do you always assume I want something?"

Hermione didn't dignify that with an answer and instead said curtly, "Look, I'm rather tired. So, what are you up to? Another intimidation attempt? Do I have to pull my wand?"

Riddle laughed annoyingly. "Nah, I'm too tired myself to hex you."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Wow. That's a first. The evil Tom Riddle too tired to hurl a little Cruciatus at my head."

He smirked viciously. "If you insist, I could humour you."

She shrugged her shoulders, not impressed by his threat. "No, thank you. I think I'll pass this time."

Riddle chuckled and Hermione was surprised to see genuine amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Where's your date?" she asked him absent-mindedly.

"Dumped her," came his swift reply.

Hermione scowled up at him. "That's horrible. You really  _dumped_  her in the middle of a  _ball_?"

"Why do you care?" Riddle asked loftily. "I know you don't really like Sarah."

Her scowl darkened, mainly because he was right. "That doesn't matter. You just… you can't  _do_  stuff like that. It's not… well, it's bad manners."

He just smirked down at her, obviously amused by her indignation. "I'm not one for manners."

"I know," Hermione sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Believe me, I know."

"Do I hear a hint of accusation in your voice?" he inquired lightly.

"Not just a hint," she deadpanned.

Riddle smiled as he heard it. He reached for his robe pocket and pulled a cigarette pack. Hermione narrowed her eyes as he took a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He snapped his fingers and a light flickered up from his thumb. Hermione drowned him in a reproachful look as he lit his cigarette.

"You shouldn't smoke."

Riddle arched an elegant eyebrow at her but didn't comment. Hermione wondered if the people in the forties even knew how harmful those things were. Just to be on the safe side, she chided Riddle,

"It's bad for you."

"I'm surprised." He smirked at her. "Since when do you worry about my health?"

"I don't," said Hermione flippantly.

Riddle didn't reply and continued smoking his cigarette. For a moment they walked in silence.

"Why did you go with McLaggen?" Riddle asked abruptly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. Why did he ask such a thing? She hadn't expected him to even notice her date, much less care.

"Because he asked me," she finally answered.

"So you would have gone with anyone who asked you?"

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds. Then she said slowly, "No. Not anyone."

"What if  _I_  had asked you?"

She furrowed her brow as she looked up at Riddle. His tone had been colourless and indifferent but for a hint of curiosity.

"We both know that would have never happened," Hermione said warily, truthfully.

Riddle took a drag from his cigarette, seemingly mulling over her answer. Hermione eyed him, bewildered by his behaviour, but couldn't stop a snide comment,

"Apparently, I would have been an embarrassment to you with my  _revealing_  dress worthy of a harlot."

His cool eyes wandered over her form, face completely expressionless. Then he gave her a shrug, casually brushing away her resentment, and replied in an offhand manner,

"I like it."

Hermione furrowed her brow at him, but Riddle's gaze had shifted from her so he couldn't see it. He was quite strange tonight.

"Even if I had accepted your hypothetical invitation," she said, opting for dry humour to lighten up the odd situation. "It seems, you would have dumped me halfway through anyway."

The cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth as Riddle smirked down at her.

"Seems like now you'll never find out," he commented airily.

Hermione poked him in the side and teased, "Imagine the heartache I've saved myself today."

Riddle turned his head and let his icy blue eyes wander over her. Hermione stopped laughing as she was hit by his penetrating gaze. She had to stop herself from shuddering under his scrutiny.

"You are the strangest creature, Rosalie," Riddle said softly as his eyes bored into her. "I never noticed that before."

With wide eyes Hermione gazed back at him. "How so?"

His piercing eyes continued to hold her imprisoned as he replied, "Just a few days ago, I hurled one of the darkest curses in existence at you. I honestly would have expected a bit more of a reaction from you."

Hermione was surprised as a small smile started to tug at her mouth. She still stared into his eyes as she said, "What did you expect? Fear?"

Never breaking their eye contact, Riddle slightly inclined his head in affirmation.

Hermione's hesitant smile turned into a grin. "Ah well, I would say 'try again later', but I'd rather you didn't."

Riddle stared at her, his eyes boring into her. But then he chuckled softly. He took a last drag from his cigarette. Then he stubbed it out on the stone wall before he flicked the butt away. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she watched it.

"Really?  _You're_  Head Boy?"

Riddle smirked at her. "Indeed. And the best this castle has ever seen."

Hermione groaned as she saw the smug look on his face. Then she inquired suspiciously, "What are you doing down here anyway? The ball isn't over yet."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Didn't want to let you wander back all on your own. Imagine what could have happened if some evil wizard caught you and pulled you into an abandoned classroom."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, feeling strangely amused.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to all you people reading my fic ^^ Leave me a comment or kudos if you feel like it. I love hearing what you think of my fic. Special thanks to all of you who gave me a kudos and commented last chapter. Thanks, peacock33, Narcissa, Pansy Potter, loveyaoi7 (haha I'm glad I could introduce you to the wonderful world of Tomione)


	15. He's kinda nice...

It was with trepidation that Hermione walked to Dumbledore's office. Not because she would be loath to meet the man, but because she was afraid of the conversation they needed to have. Hogwarts library was admittedly quite comprehensive, but it had still left Hermione stranded with her time travel problem. She simply lacked the experience and knowledge to tackle such a problem. Dumbledore was her only hope to find a way for her to go home and Hermione was afraid to meet him now and hear him say it was impossible. Her hand shook badly as she raised it to knock at the transfiguration professor's office.

"Enter, please," came a voice from within and Hermione complied.

"Good evening, professor."

Dumbledore sat on a fluffy armchair in front of the fireplace, a cup of tea in hand. The old wizard smiled at her brightly and gestured for her to sit down in the unoccupied chair across from him.

"Hermione, please, make yourself at home," Dumbledore said kindly.

Before Hermione accepted the invitation, she secured the door with a few secrecy spells. Dumbledore poured another cup of tea as she finally sank into the armchair across from him.

"Here," he said merrily and handed her the cup. "Strawberry-mint. It's simply delicious."

"Thank you." Hermione threw him a small smile.

"So, Hermione, tell me, how are you doing?" Dumbledore inquired as they had both settled down comfortably.

Hermione drew in a deep breath of air. "As good as can be expected, I suppose."

Dumbledore nodded sagely and took another sip from his tea. "I hear Ms Black's performance during class has taken an unexpected turn for the better."

Hermione groaned and peered at him sheepishly. "Yes. I'm sorry. I messed up."

"Don't worry too much about it." Dumbledore scanned her with concern glimmering in his eyes. "But you need to be more careful or you might give yourself away."

Hermione put her cup down and ran a distressed hand over her face. "I know. But…" She scanned Dumbledore timidly. "But I think I already gave myself away."

The wizard raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He suspects me," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "Tom Riddle knows something is up with me."

"Hm, that is quite unsettling," Dumbledore mused pensively, stroking his long beard. "But he does not know the full truth of your origin?"

"No." Hermione shook her head. "I guess time travel is a bit farfetched even for Tom."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, eyes once again glinting merrily.

Hermione took another sip from her tea only to stall her next question. Her stomach was in tight knots, making her feel slightly nauseous.

"Professor?" she asked, voice trembling around the edges. "Did you… did you find anything that could take me back to my time period?"

Dumbledore gazed at her over his half-moon spectacles and she didn't like the pity crossing his face. She balled her hands into tight fists, her nails cutting into her skin.

"I have searched, Hermione," Dumbledore said sombrely. "You must understand that your case is unique. The magic necessary to catapult someone so far back in time is quite substantial. A spell to sustain such power would be immensely complex. The same is true for a spell pushing someone forward in time. I would be able to fabricate such a spell, but unfortunately this process is even more convoluted by the fact that we have yet to identify the incantation that propelled you back in time."

All of Hermione's fears crashed down on her. Something constricted painfully around her chest, making breathing difficult. Her lower lip trembled traitorously as she croaked out,

"I- I'm stranded. I can never go home."

She could feel her eyes burn and angrily wiped at them. Dumbledore leaned a bit towards her and laid a soothing hand on her arm.

"I didn't say that, Hermione," he tried to console her. "It just is quite a challenge to solve this problem. I haven't given up, though. I am going to continue finding a way to bring you back."

"T- thank you," Hermione breathed out, fighting against her tears.

She peered up at the professor and found an encouraging smile on his face. Shakily, she tried to return it.

"I j- just miss home… my friends," she told him, voice cracking. "I- it's not so bad here, but… I don't belong here. It's wrong. Everything is wrong. Even…" She wrung her hands in her lap. "Even my body is wrong. I'm not Rosalie Black. I want to be Hermione Granger again."

"I understand," Dumbledore's kind voice soothed her. "It is a difficult situation for you, but don't give up. It's not hopeless."

Hermione looked at him tearily. "I'll try, professor."

Dumbledore smiled at her widely and poured her another cup of tea.

~.~.~

Furtively, Hermione rubbed her eyes as she wandered back to the Slytherin common room. She was immensely grateful for Dumbledore's, but despite his efforts to reassure her there was a dark spot growing in her chest. Fear had a tight grip on Hermione. She felt as if her future, her family, her friends were slipping through her fingers. What if Dumbledore couldn't find a way to send her back? What if she really had to stay here? As Rosalie Black?

Dark thoughts circling around her predicament, Hermione wandered down a corridor. She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, so she was quite unprepared as a voice cried from behind her,

"Adaperio!"

And just a second later, something collided hard with her back, hurling Hermione away. She grunted in pain as she was thrown to the floor, skidding a few feet on the polished stone.  _Shit!_  Without thinking, her reflexes kicked in and Hermione rolled around, simultaneously pulling her wand. She still lay on the floor but raised her wand at her attacker, adrenaline rushing through her body. Her brain hadn't had the time to consider all the implications and yet Riddle's face already spooked through her mind. A powerful curse almost rolled from the tip of Hermione's wand as she finally recognized her attacker. For once, it wasn't Riddle.

"Gamp?" Hermione whispered incredulously.

Indeed it was her roommate, Gamp, who stood over her, wand in hand. The girl's dark hair frizzled around her, charged by the magic crackling in the air, and she smirked at Hermione triumphantly. Hermione frowned up at the gleeful Slytherin and sat up, painfully holding her back.

"What-"

Gamp cut over her and jeered, "Did you like that?"

Hermione groaned as she slowly got up, keeping her wand in her hand. In annoyance, she mumbled, "No, can't say I did."

Painfully she rubbed the small of her back where Gamp's curse had probably left behind a nice, large bruise. Hermione glared at the other girl and inquired, "What did you do that for?"

Gamp's nose crinkled in disgust as she eyed Hermione. "What? Did you think you could treat me like garbage and I'd just take it lying down?"

Of course Hermione knew that Gamp probably had ample reason to hate Rosalie Black, but at the moment she wasn't feeling very forgiving. Fingers tightening around her wand, Hermione replied harshly,

"It's no reason to just cu-"

Gamp just ran over her again and hissed, cold anger wrapped around her every word, "You think you're  _so_  important. Rich, beautiful Slytherin princess, Rosalie Black. Striding around the place, all high and mighty like everyone should bow to her." Gamp took a threatening step towards Hermione. "Well, here's a newsflash: no-one likes you, Rosalie. You're a joke." A smirk twisted up her lips as she added meanly, "The only thing you've got going for you is a pretty face. And believe me, everyone knows that without that you're just a boring, stupid waste of space."

Hermione blinked at Gamp, momentarily struck mute by the vitriol in the other's voice. The Slytherin twirled her wand through her fingers and her nasty smirk widened as Gamp took in how Hermione rubbed her sore back. In twisted self-satisfaction, she stated,

"Finally you'll look as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside."

_Nice_ , Hermione thought bitterly and hoped Gamp's spell wouldn't make her throw up slugs or something equally nasty. Well, it already hurt quite badly. Grinding her teeth in anger, Hermione pushed her wand back into her robe pocket. She was done here.

"You know what?" Hermione said tightly. "Maybe Ros-  _I_  deserved this. But do you really think this is the right way to go about it? Cursing someone from behind their back?"

"Yes, you  _do_  deserve this," Gamp agreed, nasty glint in her eyes. "The way you treat people, you deserve a lot worse."

"Yeah, well… Thanks for that," Hermione drawled sarcastically. "Now that you've joined the club, I suggest we go our separate ways."

With that she left the angry Slytherin standing in the corridor and stalked away. Her back was hurting but she still held it straight.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

A few hours later, Hermione still felt churned up. She sat in the Great Hall for dinner, but couldn't bring herself to eat anything. Gamp's actions had shaken her quite a bit. It wasn't so much the actual attack that upset her so – Hermione was used to a lot worse in her time period – but the truth behind Gamp's caustic words. The girl had been right about one thing: No-one really liked Rosalie Black. The whole school thought she was an airhead, her boyfriend – or now  _ex_ -boyfriend – had just used Rosalie, her so-called friends wouldn't hesitate to betray her if it benefitted them and the rest of them apparently hated her enough to throw curses at her. Rosalie was painfully isolated and now Hermione was stuck in her body, sharing her fate. She was utterly alone.

Hermione worried her lower lip as her dull eyes wandered over her housemates. The green and silver of their uniforms made her want to curl up and cry. She didn't want to be here. Didn't  _belong_. Slytherin wasn't her house. Hermione missed everyone from her time. Were Harry and Ron alright? What about the Weasleys, Luna or Lupin? Feeling utterly dejected, Hermione listlessly nibbled at a dry piece of toast. What if Dumbledore wouldn't be able to find a solution to her problem after all? What if it took him years to find it?

"Hey, Rosalie?" a voice seeped into her depressed thoughts.

Hermione looked up from her toast and found Betty smiling at her widely. Had she been there the whole time?

"Yes?" Hermione mumbled dully.

Either Betty couldn't take a hint or she didn't care that Hermione wasn't in the mood to talk. In any way, she smiled at Hermione and gushed out,

"I heard that you got an 'O' in your last Potions essay."

"Uh-huh," Hermione hummed apathetically.

"Well?" Betty leaned closer to her and whispered conspiratorially, "How'd you do it? Someone else wrote it for you?"

A deep frown appeared between Hermione's eyebrows. Of course the other girl would suspect foul play. After all, Rosalie Black did not get any 'O's if she didn't resort to some kind of underhanded tactics. Throwing an annoyed look at Betty, Hermione said coldly,

"I studied. That's the only way you can get good grades."

Betty's face fell, confusion entering her eyes. "Oh… Okay. It's just strange, you know."

That was enough. Hermione couldn't deal with this right now. She threw her half-eaten toast on her plate and stood up.

"I'm finished," she told Betty tightly before she walked out of the Great Hall.

Balling her hands into tight fists, Hermione left the castle. Cold wind blew into her face, making her wrap her robe around herself. Feeling lost, Hermione wandered to the edge of the Great Lake. The water looked murky grey and quite frosty. Still she was hit by the sudden urge to just jump in. Maybe she might find refuge down with the merpeople. Hermione sighed deeply and plopped down in the grass. The wind was still icy cold, but she ignored it.

What would she do if there really was no way back to her time? Her thoughts wandered to her parents. They were in Australia with no recollection that they had ever had a daughter. At least they wouldn't miss her. Hermione's lower lip wobbled at the thought. Soon there were hot tears running down her cheeks. Blinking rapidly, she tried to stop but just couldn't. Memories of her lost life spooked through her head as she huddled in a pathetic ball at the shore of the Great Lake. Angrily, Hermione wiped over her face. The tears though didn't want to stop and rolled down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" a deep voice asked.

Startled, Hermione quickly tried to get rid of her traitorous tears. Then she hesitantly turned around. She looked up into a pair of blue eyes. Of course it would be Tom Riddle, she thought irritably as she scanned his emotionless face. His gaze slowly wandered over her and Hermione knew that her eyes were probably puffy and red from the crying. Just great. She really wasn't in the mood to get mocked. Swallowing down her tears, she asked in a hopefully steady voice,

"How can I help you?"

Riddle merely arched an eyebrow. Then, to Hermione's surprise, he sat down beside her.

"I rather thought it was you in need of help," he stated coldly.

She forced a condescending look on her face and scoffed, "Whyever would you think that?"

Normally he always lost his temper whenever she was belittling him, but this time Riddle merely continued to scan her. Then he slowly, very slowly, raised his hand. Hermione stiffened as his fingers touched her cheek and gently skimmed over her skin. As he removed his hand, she could see that a solitary tear clinging to the tip of his finger. His gaze seemed to be clued to that trop of salt water. Abruptly, the blue orbs flashed back at her. He stared into her eyes, and Hermione felt unable to avoid his hypnotizing gaze.

His voice was still painfully free of any emotion as he calmly said, "I repeat: what's wrong?"

Hermione didn't know what it was – maybe the complete lack of pity on his face or maybe the fact that Riddle was in a twisted way a part of the home she had lost – whatever it was, her tears decided to come back. She still was unable to avoid his mesmerising eyes as she felt the new tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I don't know," she replied in a stifled voice. "…everything?"

Still cold as ice, Riddle bent closer to her and even grasped her hand in his. Hermione felt his fingers closing around her demandingly.

"Tell me," he said and his quiet voice didn't hide the sharp command.

Strangely enough, his tone of voice for once didn't raise her temper. Instead Hermione mumbled in a chocked voice, "I used to always know all the answers. But now… I just don't."

Riddle's fingers tightened around hers, but it strangely didn't feel threatening. He looked at her through narrowed eyes, demanding more of an explanation. Hermione felt strangely grounded by the familiarity of Riddle's domineering behaviour.

"It's… it's just…" she whispered tearily. "I feel like… like everything is crumbling down around me. Or maybe it's just me falling." She could still feel his hand holding hers. "Everything is different, you see. Not in a good way different. I didn't want things to change …for the worse. I want… I want to be protected again. I don't want to be alone." She sniffed and added pathetically, "I guess I lost the feeling of security."

To her own surprise and horror, Hermione noticed how her fingers closed around Riddle's hand. She was holding to him tightly.

"I was… happy," she whispered, finally averting her eyes from him. "I didn't even notice how happy I was. And then everything was suddenly gone. Now, it's just cold and… unsure. I'm alone."

Hermione still felt Riddle's hand in hers. After her confession she let her head hang and didn't look up at him. Maybe she never wanted to look at him again.

"Everyone is alone," Riddle said, frost leaking through his voice like always. "We all have to look after ourselves."

Staring down at her fingers entwined with his, Hermione smiled a sad smile.

"That's just it," she whispered, painful hollowness clasping at her heart. "I came from a place where that wasn't true. Where we looked after each other. Where I was not alone but protected. And now…" Hermione raised her eyes and locked them with his blue ones. "Now you are right."

Hermione was surprised. She had never noticed. Riddle's eyes were beautiful. Radiating nothing but coldness, they clawed at her with ferocity. Still, they were beautiful to look at.

"So you're really trying to tell me that Black manor is a happy place? And that you felt protected there?" he mocked and suddenly there was a smirk on his face. "I always thought that manor was somehow haunted, to be honest."

The light taunt in his voice was not meant to hurt. It was something new for Hermione. It made her smile up at Riddle. Before her mind had time to yell at her to stop, Hermione leaned over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Leaning her head against his chest, she breathed in his pleasant scent. His whole body tensed up as she hugged him.

"I wasn't talking about Black manor, silly," she whispered, smiling into his uniform shirt.

Under normal circumstances she would have yelled out in fright, but now she only closed her eyes and relaxed comfortably against Riddle as she felt his fingers gently running through her hair.

"I think the only thing that's really changed is you, Rosalie," Riddle told her in his collected voice.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long hiatus. I started a new job and I'm sure you all know how that can be time consuming. Sadly, being a fanfic author alone doesn't really pay the rent ;) I hope you can even remember this fic after the long hiatus. In any way, enjoy the new chapter ^^ It's a bit shorter than intended, because apparently I was unable to write this stupid little scene that is still missing. 
> 
> I thank everyone who read last chapter and gave me kudos, you guys are great :D also special thanks to everyone who left me a comment. Thank you a lot! I appreciate the input ^^  
> mitsuki0tennyo, Narcissa, fernitron007, Areliae, FarAwayInWonderland


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